[ episode six ]

Mega Evolution. What an idea! Clair couldn't imagine anything more powerful than her buffed-up Salamence after several Dragon Dances. As strong as that dragon was, to think something else existed that could increase its power beyond all understanding…

Her exit from Sycamore's Pokémon Lab was brief. Nobody stopped her from leaving, and there was neither sight nor sound of Lysandre. He'd seemed discomforted by the idea, and all but ran out of the office. Clair couldn't imagine what would cause him to rush out of the room like that, but part of her didn't care. What actually mattered was who else knew that information. Sycamore was a chatterbox—surely he'd have told others about his discovery.

She wondered again if Giovanni already knew.

Already Windie was being her usual self, sniffing and licking at the coffee-soiled spots of her jacket, blissfully unaware. Heaving a sigh, Clair stuffed the stained garment into her bag. She needed to get out of these dirty clothes and into something less disheveled. This was Lumiose, after all, and she needed to be fashionable. Clair found herself wishing Karen were here. The Dark-type expert would happily play dress-up. She could care less for fine clothes herself, but spending time with her good friend would make this unbearable city somewhat tolerable.

Donning her backpack, Clair began to walk away from Sycamore's lab. She didn't care where her footsteps took her so long as it was away from there. Whatever occurred between her and Lysandre could never happen again. Spirits, she made such a fool of herself!

At mid-morning, the city's inhabitants were in full swing. Taxis and Gogoat and a throng of people milled around doing their daily activities, contributing to the ever-growing noise of the city. She wished again for some earplugs. Growing up in the mountains, she'd never had a need for any, never thought to own any. Even visits to Goldenrod were tolerable—at least then she'd had Lance by her side. Conversations with him drowned everything else out. But here she had naught but her Pokémon.

She tried to drill out the constant pounding at her ears. Far behind her now was Professor Sycamore's lab, and just to her left was the entrance to Versant Road. She passed a hair boutique and several cafes, each blaring their own cheery music and haughty décor. Each was worse on her senses than the last. It was all Clair could do to pass through South Boulevard and into Estival Avenue.

In this inner rung of the city, trees lined the middle of cobblestone streets. People and Pokémon alike shared the road, happily ignorant to Clair's suffering. She couldn't imagine living in a place so preposterous. But as Clair walked, it became apparent that this section of the city held more attractions than she realized. Lumiose had anything and everything, tailoring itself to each class of citizens.

Even someone like her, who loathed the pomp and swagger of city life. A gym—"Fitness Heroes," an actual gym—made her heart soar. She made a mental note to suffer through the streets just to get a few hours of workout in.

Before her, the imposing Prism Tower loomed.

The noise pierced her eardrums like a knife. And as they grew closer to downtown, the sheer enormity of it almost forced her to her knees. Clair grit her teeth. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, she spotted it. Just ahead, with its quaint red roof, was the Pokémon Center. Pulling Jude into her arms, Clair grabbed Windie's paw and tugged her along as she ran in the Center's direction.

The frosted sliding glass doors were partially-open when she clambered her way through. A few Trainers turned to look at her exuberant entrance, but most ignored her. A city this large had plenty of weirdos.

A blanket of calm settled over her. The noise, the pain, all of it, swept away by the calming jingle of the soft music playing overhead. Eager for respite, Clair elbowed her way through the line until she was next. They eyed her with disdain but said nothing. Nobody ever did.

When it was her turn, her eyes were hard and her voice was abrupt. "I want a room," she said, speaking in her clearest Common, "and I want Jude and Windie taken care of." She thrust her Trainer ID into the unsuspecting assistant's chest.

"We can do that, sure," the assistant began, "but all of our Trainer packages are—"

She glared at him. "I didn't ask for an explanation. Just do it."

The assistant sputtered nonsense once more, but faltered under her gaze. In the end, they charged her for a Super Premium Ultra package, or whatever the fancy Kalosian name they had for it was. She'd get a single room and her Pokémon would receive special care, all for an extravagant price. If she was going to spend more than a day in Lumiose, her grandfather would pay for it.

A second assistant waited patiently for her beside the nurse's station. Windie willingly bounded by their side, excitedly showing them her stick, but Jude was stoic beside Clair. His ears went back and he avoided her gaze. Clair kneeled beside him. Scratched him under his chin, just the way he liked. Jealous, Windie skipped back over and begged for a kiss. Clair laughed, kissed them both on the forehead, and promised to meet them in a few hours.

Cheeks burning, Clair stood, hoping nobody saw the lapse in her demeanor. Aside from the assistant, who looked rather bored, no-one seemed to notice. Nobody could see this side of her—nobody deserved to. Her Pokémon followed the assistant into the back. Clair tried not to feel a pang of regret as Jude gave her one final look before the double doors shut behind him.

Spirits, she was in deep.

The living quarters of this Pokémon Center were more removed than others she'd been in. Her room was at the far end, a supposed upgrade from the usual fare. While Clair didn't care one way or another, it was nice to have everything provided for her, room service included. A king-sized bed waited for her when she arrived. Clair set her bag on the floor and flopped on to it, surprised by how comfortable it was.

Sweet, blessed silence.

She lay there for almost half an hour before a thought occurred to her. Lance. Maybe he replied! Maybe he was here, in this spirits-forsaken city, and she'd be able to live again. Clair launched from the bed in one solid motion. Rummaged through a pocket of her bag before finding her phone. The screen read that she had 4 missed messages, all dated two hours prior.

LANCE: CLAIR!

LANCE: Sorry for not replying before!

LANCE: I saw your message and I thought I'd answered! Great job on getting your first badge!

LANCE: Things have been hectic here. I won't be able to make it until tomorrow.

LANCE: Meet me Café Soleil 10am?

Instead of soaring, her heart plummeted. So he wasn't here, after all. Instead of moving on, she'd be stuck here in this pompous city for however long Lance was visiting. Congratulations, Clair, you played yourself. She wanted to throw her phone across the room, wanted to shout and scream and beg and plead for him to come right now. Please.

She forced all those emotions deep down. Struggled to find the words that didn't betray how she felt. Failed.

OK.

Clair shoved the phone back inside its pocket. It buzzed twice in quick succession, but she decidedly ignored it. No, she didn't have time for that now. Instead, Clair grabbed her workout gear and proceeded to change. There was no need for emotion when pushing one's body past its limits. And she'd neglected her physique for days.

Simple black leggings and a navy crop top completed her ensemble. Clair stared at the mirror and flexed. Despite the tone of her muscles, she still felt inadequate. Her bis and tris used to be better, her stomach flatter. Clair doubted she had the stamina to climb Mt. Silver in this condition. A week in Kalos and she'd deteriorated this much.

Sighing, she went out the door and wandered back into the onslaught of the city.

【-】

The rest of the day went by slowly. Clair completed set after set, at alternating and increasingly difficult machines, but she still felt empty. Lance would be here tomorrow. And what would she say? She was so excited for him to be here, and yet she had no words. Alexa and Sycamore's words danced in her head, but there was absolutely no way she'd bring that up.

Back at her room in the Pokémon Center, Clair stared at herself in the mirror, at the unruly bangs curling around her face. Years of trying yielded no results making sense of them, so she'd since stopped. She brushed a wet lock behind her ear. A second later it fell back into its original position. Frowning, Clair rubbed the moisture from her long hair with a towel and wrapped it above her head in a turban.

Windie and Jude lay asleep on the bed, curled together in one furry ball, Jude the little spoon. A hint of a smile played on her lips. Careful not to wake them, Clair sat beside them and lay down. Tomorrow. So many things could happen tomorrow, and she still wasn't sure what to do. She shook her head. Rolled over, stared at her Pokémon's sleeping forms. They were still so young. A sudden urge to protect them welled in her heart, and Clair brought them against her in a hug.

Rocket and Mega Evolution be damned. Nothing was going to take them away from her.

【-】

Located near the outer spokes of the city, Café Soleil was a local heartthrob of a bistro. Rows of wooden tables crammed with residents and tourists alike sat outside on the brick herringbone patio, covered by linen umbrellas. The canopy of the café was white, as well, as pristine and stain-free as the rest of the city. Pots of colorful plants separated each table, and a jungle of flowers surrounded the sign that read CAFÉ SOLEIL. Blood-orange flags with a white sun in the center flapped merrily in the crisp breeze.

Beside her, Windie and Jude were being unruly. Windie coerced Jude into a game of tag, and the two Pokémon ran in erratic circles down the block. On the way over, Windie had once again become so overwhelmed with energy that she decided that she was going to do whatever she wanted, regardless of Clair's demands. Jude, at least, remained obedient, but who knows how long that would last? And now everyone was staring at her.

"Windie!" Clair hissed. "Get over here."

Windie stopped. Stood straight up, ears pricked forward. Stared right at her. Clair could have sworn she saw her grin. Jude, however, nearly fell over himself trying to comply. A single, sharp snap of her fingers made him come running. Windie's new evolution made her sassy. Frowning, Clair stormed over to her Pokémon, grabbed her by the paw, and tugged her along. The Braixen put up little struggle.

If the tourists weren't laughing before, they certainly were now. Clair's cheeks flushed crimson as she made her way back to the café's entrance. Windie's antics made them five minutes late. Clair attempted to regain her composure before walking inside, failing miserably.

The interior hummed with the cheery sounds of people enjoying brunch. Clair held Windie still by her side, trusting Jude to stay put. Peppered with whimsical design elements, the café blended a bistro look with rustic furnishes. Natural tones of the brick herringbone bloods and concrete pillars stood as a background to modern furnishings. People in bohemian attire sat in soft pink chairs at glass tables with turquoise plates.

Clair wondered why the heck her cousin wanted to meet her here. This wasn't something fun and casual, this was the epitome of Kalos. They didn't belong here—she didn't belong here. Especially not in her cut-off shorts and black tank top that showed just the barest amount of midriff! And there were so many people here. She scanned the room, searching for his familiar face. Found none.

Wait! There he was! Clair exited the entrance, allowing others to finally come in, and made her way to the middle of the room, toward where Lance sat. Only it wasn't Lance. The familiar scarlet hair wasn't scarlet, but red…

"Clair! Over here!"

She had only an instant to discover she was looking at Lysandre when she turned around. Lance stood in the doorway, his face alight with joy. He rushed to pull her into a deep embrace and pulled her along into a table by the window.

"I was only just able to reserve these seats!" he said in Common, holding a chair out for her. A seat with her back against the wall, so she'd be able to survey her surroundings. He'd remembered.

Overcome with emotion, Clair pulled Lance into another hug. From his place across the room, Lysandre caught her eye. Smiled, with those green eyes twinkling. Then he looked away, engrossed in his partner's conversation. It was as if she never existed. Embarrassed, she let Lance go. Removing Windie from the chair, she sat in the proffered seat and placed her pack on the floor.

"Lance, why are we here? What is this place?" she asked in her native tongue, leaning forward in her seat conspiratorially.

Lance grinned. "Isn't it neat? I found this place in an article I read before we came. It's even better in person!"

Of course. Lance was bougie, how could she forget? The slang was foreign on her tongue—Clair couldn't remember where she'd heard it—but it suit him to a T. "Warn me next time," she hissed. "I'm underdressed."

Her cousin merely grinned wider. Unlike her, Lance wore something more presentable. He wore simple black jeans and a button-up denim shirt. He was hardly recognizable in this getup—which was good, because Clair wasn't in the mood to deal with photographers. They always seemed to find him in Tohjo.

A moment later a waitress came over, a pretty blonde in a sharp black blouse and a sleek grey skirt. "Bonjour, monsieur," she said, giving Lance a flirty smile. She began to ask their order in Kalosian, but soon switched to Common. Clair guessed even they gave off tourist vibes. "Welcome to Café Soleil. I am Celeste. What can I get for you?"

"Ah! Bonjour!" Lance replied. He attempted to order from the menu, speaking broken Kalosian and butchering half the words. The blonde giggled at his attempts, and even helped him pronounce it.

"Oui, oui, very good!" Celeste brushed a hand across Lance's arm before jotting down his order. "You could be mistaken for a natural." Turning to Clair, the waitress' smile dropped, the humor gone from her voice. "And you, madame?"

Unlike Lance, Clair didn't bother to pronounce it properly in Common. She ordered what she always did when she went out to tea with Morty. The waitress, Celeste, didn't bother to write it down. When she was gone, Clair turned to her cousin.

"Don't get any ideas," she warned, swapping back to Johtonese.

Lance spit out the water he'd been drinking. Coughing, he removed the napkin from his lap and dabbed his face with it. "I—what? Clair, I'd never—" But his face betrayed him. Rosy cheeks and glancing after Celeste, even after she'd gone.

Clair frowned. "So, Windie evolved," she said matter-of-factly. Changing the subject would do them both good. "And I have a Riolu now."

Her cousin leaped into the opportunity. "I thought she looked different!" he exclaimed, leaning over to get a better look at the Braixen. He nodded, pleased. "Gosh, she looks so good, Clair. And you beat Viola with her?"

"She was Fennekin then," she replied, her tone filled with pride. "Windie is—" Clair gave a pointed look at Windie, "—definitely one of a kind. Even Sycamore said so."

Crap, she hadn't meant to say that.

Lance's eyebrow rose. "Sycamore? You mean the professor? You saw him? What did he say? Did you tell him I said 'hi'?"

Shutting her eyes tight, Clair mentally kicked herself. When she opened them, she refused to meet her cousin's eye. "Yes. Well, I did. He… certainly had a lot to say." Her gaze transfixed on the crystal glass set before her by the waitress. Spirits, she needed wine, but water would have to do.

Lance waited expectantly.

"The professor likes to take pictures of all the Pokémon that are raised there," Clair began. That much was true. What, like she was supposed to tell him, a genius, that Mega Evolution existed, and that only a select few were able to achieve it? He'd take it and rush after it. Conquer it. The Mega Evolution Champion. She continued, "He had a whole album of Windie. It was… quite nice."

"An album!" Lance laughed, clapping his hands together. "Why didn't I think of that? Clair, think about it! Photos of all the hatchlings! Although I'm sure the Lorekeeper already has something similar…"

"What? Why would we even need it? Lance, that's stupid."

His smile was infectious. Clair grinned.

"Okay, so maybe not an album. I'll think of something," he said with a wink. He sat back just as Celeste set their lunch in front of them. "Oh! Food! Thanks!"

He'd forgotten to switch to Common. Clair was secretly pleased. For a moment she was worried that he'd forgotten where he came from, but that feeling passed. Through all his talk and glamour and travel, Lance was still a Blackthorn boy at his roots. She couldn't be losing him to this place.

Around them, the room hummed with the eager crowd. People enjoyed themselves in this chic place, their focus on themselves and their own shallow lives. Her eyes flicked toward where Lysandre sat, hoping it empty, but there he was, relishing in his own conversation. Dismay and pleasure danced in her heart.

Who was he sitting with? A brunette with her braided hair wrapped around her head sat before him in a pristine white cloak. They seemed engrossed in conversation; the woman was talking with animated hands while Lysandre nodded at appropriate times. Dressed in a casual blazer and dark denim pants, Lysandre was just as handsome as he was yesterday. She wondered what they were talking about.

No. No, she didn't—she didn't care at all. Clair glanced at her food, a simple meal that wasn't half as large as she expected, and with much less meat than she wanted. Tch. Leave it to the fancy, rich people establishments to skimp out on the portions.

"So tell me about the battle," Lance said between bites. "I wish I could have seen it. I mean, I've seen you with your dragons, but this is something different!"

"Well, they certainly aren't dragons," she said. Clair studied him for a moment. Smiled. Then told him about the battle, how Windie truly excelled with fire, and how she'd done her best to keep up with the training Clair had put them through. Though stubborn, the Braixen was… truly dear to her. She talked about Jude, and how they met, and how, despite the limitations of his hock, he really was something special. Clair gave her Pokémon a fond smile. Scratched behind Jude's ear, just the way he liked it.

Lance snuck a piece of chicken to Windie when he thought Clair wasn't looking. Grinning and meeting her cousin's eye, she pretended not to notice.

Lance sat back in his chair, napkin covering his empty plate. "I wish I'd been there. Maybe they'll televise the next one! They do that sometimes. I'd love to see this fantastic duo in action."

"Perhaps. Alexa said as much after the interview."

Crap. Clair's eyes went wide and she hurriedly stuffed her face full of the last dregs of her food. She should not have said that!

Lance looked at her curiously. "Interview? Since when did you give interviews?"

"Ah—I—f-forget it, it doesn't matter!" she stammered. She looked away, anywhere other than her cousin. Why'd she have to let slip? Sure, she could talk about the post-Gym battle interview, but Lance would know she was hiding something. Clair shook her head. "It was nothing. Alexa said it'd probably be out tomorrow. You can read it then."

The name apparently meant something.

"Clair," Lance said softly. He pushed his plate away and leaned forward on the table. "What's going on? What did Alexa want to talk about?"

"She wanted to talk about the battle," Clair repeated, her voice stern. "I'm a Gym Leader. Surely that's news."

She was talking to him like he was an infant. Spirits, she hated it. But he didn't believe her—the dark look on his face betrayed as much.

"I don't know what's going on, but Alexa doesn't do post-Gym challenge interviews. She's a high-profile investigative journalist." He studied her for a long minute. Then he sighed. Ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. "Okay. There's something you're not telling me. But you don't want to talk about it."

"No."

"No," he repeated. His voice had long lost its joviality. Lance stared at her, his gold eyes boring into hers. "Please, Clair. If you're in trouble, let me know. I'll help you."

Clair let out a choked laugh. He—he thought this was about her! "I don't need your help," she said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. She regretted it immediately: Lance looked like he'd been slapped. "I mean, I didn't—"

"That's okay. Don't worry about it."

Clair averted her eyes. Lance wanted to speak, but didn't. The cousins sat in pained silence. The waitress collected their discarded plates and utensils, hoping to catch Lance's eye, but he paid her no mind. His attention was solely on Clair. Realizing Jude was in Clair's lap, and jealous she wasn't being held, Windie crawled her way into Lance's. He rubbed her fur absently.

A voice like a purr broke the silence. "Am I interrupting something?"

Clair jumped. There Lysandre stood, not even two feet from her, leaning over the table with a smug grin on his stupid face. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, smirking broadly.

"May I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the seat beside Clair. He made it clear he wasn't asking. Lance nodded, and Lysandre took his place next to her. Under the table, their knees almost touched.

"I apologize for intruding," Lysandre said, addressing Lance. "My name is Lysandre."

Lance was about to reply, but Clair wheeled on Lysandre, her voice scathing. "Why are you here?"

Lysandre smiled. She hated the way it reached his eyes, the way his cheeks dimpled. "Am I not allowed to sit with friends?"

Lance cocked his head. "Clair, do you know him?"

"We met yesterday."

Windie had had enough. She squirmed out of Lance's grasp and launched herself at Lysandre, cuddling up next to him and crying pitifully. She saw him yesterday and now she was acting like it'd been years! Jude, however, was not so open. His ears lay back against his head, and the look he gave was not friendly.

"Well, if Windie likes you, who am I to disagree!" Lance laughed. He extended his hand for Lysandre to shake. "It's nice to meet you, Lysandre. I'm Lance, Champion of Tohjo. You met my cousin yesterday?"

"I recognized you immediately. I must say, the bond you share with your Pokémon is impeccable," Lysandre said, taking Lance's hand. "At the Pokémon World Tournament, when you battled Cynthia, it was as if you and your dragons were one. I'm surprised the refs didn't vote in your favor."

Lance ran a hand through scarlet hair, laughing. "Ahh I can't believe you remembered that! Honestly, it was a mistake on my part—I misjudged my opponent, a rookie move if there ever was one—and it cost us the fight. She deserved it, though!"

The two men shared a chuckle. Clair remembered that fight. Unlike Lysandre, Clair felt as if Cynthia's popularity won her the battle. Because she was pretty. Because she was fashionable. Lance was being humble; he didn't make a mistake. A draw? More like a fluke. That ref had an agenda.

"To answer your question, yes, Miss Clair and I met yesterday," Lysandre began. He ruffled Windie's fur. She was cradled in his arms, belly on display. "Although it seems as if I've known her longer." His eyes caught hers. Smiling, he continued, "Augustine—Professor Sycamore—was quite impressed by her. It seems to me as if he believes she's capable of so much more. In fact, he told us something truly quite fascinating—and terrible in the wrong hands."

Oh, spirits, he isn't talking about—?

But he was. And Lance was intrigued. She couldn't let him continue.

Giving his shin a not-so-subtle kick, Clair shot a warning look at Lysandre. He winced and gave her a quizzical look. She coughed nonchalantly and shook her head. Raising an eyebrow, Lysandre mouthed Why? Clair shook her head again.

Lance watched them in silence. If he suspected anything, he revealed nothing. Clair was glad for that—although she was certain he knew something else was going on. It was for the best.

"As I was saying… Augustine seems to think Miss Clair quite capable," Lysandre went on, rubbing Windie's stomach. "If Windie here is anything to go by, I'd say she's one of the few who are. We need more people like her to build a brighter future."

"You know, I sent Clair to the professor because I figured he'd see her potential. I'm glad someone else sees it, too!" Lance looked at Clair with a warmth that'd melt the arctic. "I figured Clair would provide the Gyms here with a good challenge, seeing as she's our Eighth back home. We've fought numerous times, and if I told you I wasn't nervous I'd be lying!" He laughed. "I've never seen a more skilled battler."

Clair flushed. What was he saying? Him, nervous? In all the times she'd challenged him, not once did she see him break a sweat. He fought tooth and nail to hit her weak spots and destroy them, pummeling her into submission until she was forced to concede. The strongest Trainer in Johto, and she had never managed to beat her cousin. Hearing him talk like this was new.

And yet he seemed to mean them. Every word. Clair gave her cousin a long look, and he returned the favor with a dazzling grin. Spirits, she loved her cousin's dumb looks!

Someone coughed, and the moment was ruined.

Lysandre was staring straight at her. Mortified, Clair's cheeks flushed bright red. "What are you looking at?!" she exclaimed, accidentally slipping into Johtonese.

"I know many languages, but I'm afraid that's one I don't," Lysandre said, laughing. "But I must say—" he looked to Lance, "—seeing a relationship like yours is remarkable. No wonder your attachment with your Pokémon is so strong. Although I'm afraid if you see me as Jude does, I'm sorry to offend!"

Jude growled upon hearing his name. "They say Aura Readers like Riolu and Lucario can tell the intentions of people," Lance began. He gave a playful scolding look to Lysandre. "What are your intentions with my cousin?"

The two men laughed.

"I'm afraid that's for me to know and for us to find out!" Lysandre chuckled. He gave a look to Clair, his eyes twinkling. "I look forward to seeing her grow on this journey she's on. Even if Jude doesn't like me."

"Perhaps Jude has good reason to," Clair said through grit teeth. "Is that it, Lyssa? Have you done something so terrible?

The mirth fell from Lysandre's face and he was silent. He shared a nervous look with Lance. After a painfully long moment, Lysandre spoke up. "I apologize, Miss Clair. I see I've struck a nerve. Before I make an even bigger fool of myself, I shall take my leave." He nodded to Lance before giving Clair one last look. "Lance, it was good to make your acquaintance. Miss Clair, may we meet again."

Lance stood from his seat to stop Lysandre, but he was already gone. He frowned. "We need to talk. C'mon, let's go outside." He took out his wallet and placed a wad of cash on the table. He gave Clair a stern look and motioned for her to follow him outside.

The waitress must have been keen for them to leave, for she swooped on their vacant table not two seconds after they exited. Jude followed Lance, but Clair had to drag Windie by her paw until they were outside. She chastised her Pokémon sternly until the Braixen got it through her head that now was not playtime.

Lance led them down the street and to a bench under a private clump of trees before settling into it. He covered his face with his hands. "Clair, what am I going to do with you?" he exclaimed, speaking in their native tongue. "This is why you don't have friends!"

"I don't need friends," Clair retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Clair! You can't talk to people like that! Why can't you talk to them like they're me? People would love you! Hell, even Lysandre seemed to like you!"

Because nobody gives a shit about me.

Turmoil wreaked her heart, a tsunami of emotion. If she talked to people like she spoke to Lance they'd laugh at her, call her weak, think even less of her than they do now. No, she couldn't do that. "Lyssa seems to enjoy making fun of me. I'm no fool."

"No, but you sure are acting like one! Do you even know who he is?"

Clair felt like she'd been slapped. "Why should I care?"

"Because he's a famous philanthropist! He works closely with Professor Sycamore, and almost exclusively donates to those in need! On top of that, he's a famous inventor!"

Philanthropist? Inventor? Lysandre? That didn't seem right. But then again, his hands were rough and calloused between hers, not at all like she'd expected from a Kalosian. He was someone who cared about their world, who wanted to keep it beautiful, weren't those his words? Not at all similar to Giovanni.

Giovanni, the man who started this whole mess. Who created Rocket and nearly destroyed everything she loved. Clair looked at Lance and the malice dropped from her voice. "I'm… not upset at Lysandre," she admitted, tearing her eyes away from his. She couldn't bear to see his disappointment.

He put his hand on her shoulder. It was warm. Clair grasped it in hers and leaned her head on it.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," he said softly. "Back in the restaurant, Lysandre was going to tell me something, but you stopped him. What was it? Or will you not tell me that, either?"

Clair bit her lip. Avoided his gaze. "I'm not going to lose you. I can't. I wasn't there for you with Rocket, and I swore I'd never let that happen again."

Lance was silent for a long time. He removed his hand from her shoulder and brushed a nervous hand through his hair. Clair crossed her arms over her chest, face beet red. Spirits, she hated how her face betrayed her emotions. Sensing his unease, Windie tried to butt her head against Lance's arm, but still he was quiet. Eventually he stared at Clair, his eyes full of something she couldn't place.

And then he hugged her. Hugged her so tightly she felt the emotion pour out from him. She felt his pain and confusion and undying love in his embrace. Clair held him back as if she'd lost him to Rocket all over again.

"Nothing's going to take me away from you," he whispered. "Not if I can help it."