I still didn't understand how I'd gained the upper hand, but I had.

I'd been thrown into the situation face first, unaware that N had planned to spill something like that, and still came out victorious. I was beginning to think I was physically incapable of losing.

Not that I was complaining.

I shut the door to my room, my blood pumping from the adrenaline of what'd I'd just done. It was odd, because usually I only got pumped when I won a battle or when I entered a city for the first time.

And I got pumped up whenever N was around, but that didn't count. It was N, for crying out loud! The socially awkward boy with the tea green hair who didn't seem to comprehend anything ending in –action. Contraction. Social interaction.

Attraction.

I could feel the blood in my body rush to my face at the thought, and in my hurry to stop thinking about it, I crossed the room to my bed, where Liepard lay. I envied her. She just had to sit and look pretty all day, while I was stuck dealing with a socially awkward boy and a mother who refused to get involved. Didn't she understand that I'd never done this before? I'd never really had anything to do with boys. I was always one of them, too tomboyish to serve as anything other than someone to rough with. This whole champion thing was throwing my world of hilt: suddenly N was all over me, and so was every other boy in town, and suddenly the press wanted my opinion on everything, and Bianca and Cheren only had time for each other.

That was another thing. They'd completely wrapped themselves up in one another, and occasionally I saw them walking around town giggling. I wanted to retch, partially in betrayal, partially in disgust..

And maybe, just a tiny bit out of jealousy.

I didn't understand what gave them the right. We'd all three taken that first step on Route one together, hadn't we? Three, not two, goddamnit! I didn't realize my fists were clenching until Liepard let out a yelp at my grip. My anger faded like water had washed it away, and I immediately was spewing apologies. That was the thing with Pokemon. They made me calm, made me the relaxed person I'd made myself out to be. They made me want to be better, to make them happy. Sometimes I felt like it was my goal just to make sure they were happy. So when Team Plasma had accused me of making them unhappy with battling..well, it hadn't gone well.

Team Plasma. They'd dismembered not long after I defeated N by a single HP point, but I still got that chill every time I thought of them. They'd abused and used Pokemon, and it made me sick. Hell, they'd abused and used N, and somehow, that made me even sicker. Sadder, almost, although I didn't want to believe it. I still didn't want to believe I felt anything for him other than physical attraction. But that was difficult when I flinched at the idea of whips on his skin, on his bare back, his screams of agony. I'd seen the scars, although he thought I hadn't. His shirt had been his betrayer: it had ridden up while he was watching TV, and it had taken all of my strength not to cry out when I'd seen the secret beneath the fabric. I couldn't tell him I'd seen, of course. I might have been bad with boys, but I was good with people, and I knew that if he wanted to tell me then he would. Until then, I would have to placate myself with something else.

A few hours later, my embarrassment from my little display of affection had faded, and I crept out into the hall. It was dark downstairs, which meant everyone was hiding away in their rooms. Hilbert, my older brother with such an affection for danger you'd think it was candy, was still journeying the region. I peaked in his room as I went by, and it was the same. Untouched by anything but mom's careful hands as she tidied the room. She might not have been the most touchy-feely of mom's, but she did enough to make up for it.

Next door was the guest room, and I'd like to say that I hesitated before opening the door. But I'm not much of a liar, so I guess I'll just tell you that I pretty much barged in there.

N lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling like it held the secrets to the world. He gave no acknowledgement except a small smile, and I took that as a welcome as I closed the door behind me.

"S'alright?" I chewed my lip as I edged my way towards the bed, knowing that for him, nothing was alright. But I still asked, because although I'm a champion, I'm the most awkward one ever. You've probably already got that figured out, though.

Another smile, less vigorous than before. "It is." He rolled his neck, turned it so one ear was pressed to the covers and he was staring at me like I had all the answers. "I assume you are alright?"

I could lie. I could say I wasn't, and I could walk out and leave his strange speech and his admiring looks behind. But like I said, I'm not much of a liar.

"No, not really." My feet had a mind of their own, and suddenly I was plopping down on the bed and forcing a serious look on my face. I figured that I had to be some level of affectionate, so I pushed the stray hairs away from that wondering face of his before I spoke.

Except I didn't know what to say, and the silence dragged on painfully until I gave up and just gave in to what I wanted. I let my hand linger on his cheek, huffing a tiny laugh at his expression. "I just missed you, that's all."

That surprised him for about half a second before he was awkwardly patting my hand, trying so desperately to return to gesture. Poor guy. "I missed you as well. Which was why I came here looking for you. I did not think.." he trailed off, breaking my gaze, but I let him pause. He'd never really been around many humans before, much less a girl who liked him. I could relate.

"I did not think that the last page should have ended with me, flying away and leaving you in the ruins of the castle."

Damnit. This affection thing was supposed to be temporary.

But the words were like scissors, snipping the thing connecting my brain to my body, and my actions weren't my own anymore. I was sliding down, down, down, under the covers and up next to him, my back pressed into his front. There was nothing sexual about it, although I had expected as much. Nothing really lovey, either, although I definitely felt that usual twisted feeling in my chest that I was still getting used to. Friends or boyfriend/girlfriend or whatever we were, there wasn't a word to describe it. At least, not one I wanted to use. It started with an L, and I despised that word. I'd hated it since the day dad walked out on mom as she claimed that she had felt that word. I'd hated it since he'd walked out the door, not giving a damn about his son who was trying to keep it together, or his daughter, openly sobbing. I'd hated it, but as N wrapped an arm around me and muttered something in a language I didn't understand, I didn't really mind it. It was the first time I'd felt peaceful and safe.

And the next morning, as I rolled out of bed and left him curled up with a pillow that early morning, his eyelids twitching as he dreamt, I realized something. I realized that finally, finally, N got some shut-eye before one o'clock in the morning. And I decided that maybe this was just the medicine he needed.

Of course, I had never been good at running from anything, so as I tried to slip out quietly I managed to wake him. I didn't know how, although I guessed it was from when I cursed loudly after stubbing my big toe on the dresser.

I heard a quiet groan from the bed, and I watched as he rolled over and met my gaze. I expected panic, but instead he just looked at me like a lazy Snorlax. I smothered a giggle.

I also had to smother the urge to note how cute he look with his ponytail, forgotten and messy beyond repair. But pretend I didn't tell you that. Pretend I just crossed the room again, kneeling beside the bed and moving my fingers through his bed head, smiling softly. "Go back to sleep."

Another groan, and suddenly he was leaning into the touch like a Pokemon would. It was almost cute. "And sleep in? Surely that would be considered rude."

"If you're rude, I'm rude." He cocked an eyebrow at my response, and I hurriedly explained. "I sleep in all the time these days. Taking advantage of my time off, you know. Mom doesn't care. She just ends up leaving breakfast in the microwave instead of on the stove, so Liepard doesn't get it. You know how they are." I was rambling, and I ended my speech awkwardly, although he seemed more bemused than anything.

"Really." One word, and that bothered me. That was my thing.

"Mhm." There. That would show him.

A long, slender finger traced my apparently-piquant jaw as if it were made of marble. I spoke before he could. "Besides, my mom would kill you if she found me in here. Hilbert would too, if he was home."

"Hilbert?" Another raised eyebrow, expecting me to explain.

"My brother. He's still out, catching Pokemon and serving the Professor like a slave. I doubt he'll be home in time to kill you, though." I sighed, brushed his hair with my fingers once more before standing and turning to go.

"My mother, however, is right across the hall, and I have to at least make it look like I slept in my own bed." And I was gone, a little bit faster than necessary, cursing myself the whole way. I did not like N. Not in the slightest. It was just a fling disguised as friendship, that was all.

But the twitching feeling in my heart protested.