Ash had beaten Paul. That's all there was to it. Ash's method of love and kindness was superior to Paul's slave driving. But this was hard to accept. Paul had truly believed that he was in the right. How could love possibly strengthen Pokémon? It made them mushy and weak, right? Fear, pain, that's what makes Pokémon strong. …Right?
Paul had his head in his hands, once again in fetal position. He couldn't believe that Ash had beaten him. It was impossible. Paul reached for his knife, then hesitated.
Then there was that other thing. The thing he would never let anyone know about. Of course, Ash and Cynthia knew, but Ash also knew what Paul's fist tasted like, and Cynthia actually liked him. Besides, they had their own reputations to uphold.
Paul sat on the floor and relived the moment. The fear. The absolute terror. And the pleasure. Oh, God, he couldn't deal with the pleasure. He shouldn't have to deal with the pleasure.
And he wouldn't. Because it would all be over soon.
But not here. What if Reggie walked in on…that? What if he tried to stop him? Oh, God, what if he asked him why? !
So Paul grabbed his knife, stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of his clothes, and left towards the most remote and convenient place he could think of.
The Pokémon Center men's room.
To be continued...
A/N: Paul isn't very creative, is he?