Happy pokeshipping week everyone!

Intimacy

It had been a month since Misty and Ash had made things official.

Misty and Ash. Finally together. After years of will-they-or-won't-they, they were officially dating. And every time Brock thought about it, he felt this unexpected, slightly ridiculous thrill on her behalf. He couldn't help it—finally! He felt a warm surge of pride, like he was seeing his own younger siblings step into a new chapter of their lives. It hit him just how much they'd all grown up over the years, even if they hadn't really noticed it happening. It was like the universe had been building up to this, as inevitable as a sunset after a long day. The prophesied teenage love. A canon event.

"Guess my job's done," he had thought with a grin.

That's why he was looking forward to his tea date with Misty today. These monthly catch-ups had always been a platonic territory—a sibling catch-up, if Brock was being completely honest. He loved Misty like a little sister, loved how easy it was to just sit together over warm mugs, falling into the kind of conversation that felt like slipping into your favorite sweatshirt. They'd catch up with each other on everything: the things that mattered, the things that didn't, the things only one of them would understand. But today, he expected her to be positively glowing. Misty, lovestruck and full of stories about Ash, blushing and spilling over with the newness of it all. It was probably going to be embarrassing, really. But he'd prepared himself to be the best, most supportive friend, ready to listen to every little detail with all the patience he could muster.

Which is why he was genuinely confused when she sat down, took a long sip of her tea, and, in the most unremarkable tone, just said, "Yeah. So… Ash and I are dating."

Brock blinked. "And…?"

Misty shrugged, studying her tea. "And it's…" She trailed off, biting her lip, searching the words in her head. "It's everything I've wanted. I mean, you know that, right?"

"Of course." He gave her an encouraging nod, waiting for more. "You've basically been into him since the day you met."

Misty made a face. "Ugh, don't make me sound so pathetic, you're giving him way too much credit. But yeah, I've had feelings for him for… well, pretty much forever."

The quiet stretched between them. Misty's eyes drifted to the café window, and Brock just watched her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But she didn't say anything more, just took another slow sip of her tea. The space between them filled with the soft clinking of her spoon against her cup, the hum of soft jazz playing from the café speakers.

Finally, he leaned forward, lowering his voice. "What's wrong?"

Misty slumped, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know… I just don't think he likes me the way I like him."

Brock's eyebrows shot up. "Hold on, what? Why would you think that?"

She huffed again. "I don't know. He just… doesn't do anything!"

Knowing this was her first relationship, Brock kept a patient, sympathetic expression. "Okay, let's break this down. Can you give me an example?"

Misty tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Alright… so last week, I went to visit him in Pallet."

Brock leaned in, nodding. "Go on…"

"We decided to have a little picnic by the river. I wore this adorable sundress—I was so excited! I thought he'd at least notice it, maybe even say something sweet."

Brock raised an eyebrow. "And… he didn't notice?"

Misty shook her head, her frustration resurfacing. "Not a word."

"What did he do, then?"

Misty thought back, a little scowl forming. "He just went weirdly quiet. You know how Ash is; he never shuts up, right?"

"Right…"

"Well, he hardly looked at me the entire walk to the riverbank! Just stared at the ground, all nervous. Then once we got to the water and started splashing around, he was back to his normal, oblivious self."

Brock bit his lip, trying not to laugh at how serious she was. "Any other examples?" he asked, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Misty shrugged, tapping her fingers restlessly against her cup. "I don't know, it's just… he never really initiates anything. Like, anything at all. It's always me." She hesitated, cheeks turning pink. "Like, even if it's just holding hands. Or, you know, kissing." She let out a tiny laugh, but it sounded off, like she was trying to brush it away before it got too real.

Brock bit back a smile. This was what was bugging her? "You're telling me Ash Ketchum hasn't kissed you?"

"Oh, he has!" she said quickly, like she needed to defend Ash's honor, even if he wasn't here. "But it's always this quick little peck. And if I want more, I'm the one who has to make the first move."

"Have you considered," he said, struggling to keep a straight face, "that maybe he's just shy?"

Her eyes narrowed, like she thought he was messing with her. "Shy?" She shook her head, incredulous. "Brock, we've known each other forever."

Brock chuckled, "exactly."

"That doesn't make sense, Brock-o!"

Brock chuckled. "Oka, hear me out, Misty. What if he didn't say anything because he was noticing you?"

Misty looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Brock leaned forward, his voice soft. "Think about it. You know how Ash is—he's not exactly shy about, well, anything. But when he gets really caught up in something, he sometimes just… freezes. What if he was so awestruck that he didn't know what to say?"

Misty's eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "You… you really think so?"

"Absolutely. He's not used to thinking of you like that, probably didn't know how to react," Brock explained, trying to keep his grin from showing too much. "You looked amazing, right? Maybe he was just a little overwhelmed."

Misty blinked, letting the idea settle. She looked off to the side, her mind racing as she replayed the scene in her head. "I remember… he did look a little flustered when I first showed up."

"See? That's not nothing," Brock said, his tone encouraging. "If you caught him off-guard, that's a pretty big deal for Ash."

A soft smile slowly spread across Misty's face. "He did go quiet. And he's never quiet," she murmured, almost to herself. "Maybe… maybe he does like me. He just… doesn't know how to show it?"

Brock nodded. "Exactly. Give him some time. I have a feeling he's just as confused by all this as you are."

Misty's face softened, her smile brightening. "Thanks, Brock. Maybe I just needed someone to remind me that Ash is still… well, Ash."

"Anytime," Brock replied, laughing. "Besides, I have a feeling you might just be the one person who can finally teach him a thing or two about romance."

Misty laughed, the sound light and hopeful. "Guess I'll keep trying. Maybe next time, I'll actually get him to say something."

Brock chuckled. "Or maybe, give him a chance again. He is slow, you know."

"Of course, I know."

The conversation with Brock kept echoing in Misty's head, nudging her thoughts in a new direction. Maybe Brock was right; maybe Ash just needed a little space to come around on his own terms. So, she decided to pull back, just a little, and see what would happen if she waited for him to make the first move.

When Ash called her up and asked if she wanted to go out that Friday, she said yes—trying her best to keep it casual. Still, by the time she was getting ready, she could feel the nervous energy settling in her stomach. She brushed it off, threw on her jacket, and walked out the door, trying not to let her mind spiral with every little "what if" she could come up with.

Ash was waiting for her by the park, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders a little hunched against the cool evening air. When he saw her, he gave her this crooked, lopsided grin that almost made her lose her resolve not to be the first to reach for his hand.

"Hey," she said, grinning back at him. "Look who managed to make it on time."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Misty. I'm only late sometimes."

"Sometimes?" She laughed. "Ash, if we had a badge for timeliness, you'd be permanently stuck at the beginner level."

He looked mock-offended, but his cheeks were already starting to color a little. "Well, maybe I'm late because I'm always planning good dates. Do you have any idea how long it took me to come up with this one?"

She raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back a smile. "Oh really? Let's hear it then, Mr. Good Date Planner."

Ash cleared his throat, looking away as if something incredibly interesting had suddenly popped up on the horizon. "Okay, so, there's a festival happening down by the lake. They have food stands and games and all that stuff. Thought it might be… fun." He scratched the back of his head, looking almost proud and nervous at the same time.

Misty's heart softened just a little. "Wow," she teased, nudging him with her elbow. "Who knew you had it in you?"

Ash shrugged, trying to look cool, but she caught the way his eyes darted over to her, like he was checking to see if she was really impressed. "Guess I'm just full of surprises," he said, his voice almost a mutter.

They started walking toward the lake, the quiet between them comfortable, filled with the sounds of laughter drifting over from the festival and the faint buzz of lights strung up around the stalls. It was that kind of crisp, cool evening that made everything feel a little sharper, a little more alive. Misty pulled her arms close, rubbing them for warmth, though her jacket wasn't doing much against the chill.

Ash noticed and slowed his pace a little, glancing sideways at her. "Are you cold?"

Misty shook her head quickly. "Not that much. Walking will warm me up anyway," she said with a casual shrug. "I just forgot my gloves, and this jacket doesn't exactly have warm pockets."

"Oh," Ash said, his gaze dropping to the ground as he nodded, like he was cataloging this fact about her jacket as if it might be useful later. "Got it."

They kept walking, and for a moment, Misty thought that was the end of it—a fleeting little moment he'd just tuck away and forget.

But a few steps later, she felt a warm, hesitant brush against her hand. At first, she dismissed it, figuring his hand had just bumped against hers by accident. She kept walking, her gaze fixed ahead. But then, it happened again, more deliberate this time. Confused, she glanced down, just in time to see Ash's fingers slip between hers, tentative and uncertain. His grip was loose at first, like he was ready to let go in an instant if she pulled away.

Misty's heart skipped, her surprise melting into a soft smile as she tightened her hand around his. That small gesture, shy and awkward as it was, spoke volumes. Maybe he didn't have the words, but in that moment, his hand in hers said everything she'd been waiting to hear.

When she glanced up at him, she saw Ash staring determinedly straight ahead, his cheeks flushed a deep pink, his brows furrowed in intense concentration—like he was trying to solve a puzzle that was both terrifying and thrilling at once. Misty bit back a laugh, careful not to disrupt the fragile courage that had spurred him into action.

Her heart swelled as she looked at him, that fierce focus and hint of nervousness somehow more endearing than any grand romantic gesture. She could almost hear the internal pep talk he was giving himself, convincing himself not to let go, not to mess this up.

Silently, she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. They walked like that in comfortable silence, hand in hand, while the evening air buzzed with a new kind of excitement between them.

He cleared his throat, still looking forward. "Y'know… if you forgot your gloves. Just… for now, this'll work, right?"

She raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her grin. "This? Holding hands?"

He shot her a quick look, almost challenging, but his ears were practically on fire. "Yeah," he said, half-defensive, half-shy. "Unless you'd rather freeze."

"Oh, well, I wouldn't want to freeze," she teased, squeezing his hand just to see him squirm a little.

His grip tightened around hers, almost as if he was daring her to keep teasing. "Good. Because I was just… looking out for you, you know. It's a practical thing."

"Of course," she said, biting back a smile. "You're so chivalrous, Ash."

He finally turned to look at her, rolling his eyes, though his smile was impossible to hide.

They kept walking, hand in hand, the festival lights glowing softly in the distance, filling the air around them with a warm, gentle buzz. Misty's heart had started to settle, finding a comfortable rhythm that matched their easy pace. She couldn't stop glancing down at their intertwined fingers, feeling a little giddy and trying her best to hide it—though Ash, still staring straight ahead, hadn't seemed to notice.

But then, just as she was lost in her own thoughts, a small smile pulled at her lips, thinking that this couldn't get any better, she felt him tug her hand closer, slipping both of their hands into his jacket pocket.

"It's warmer," he mumbled, his voice low and slightly gruff, like he was still figuring out if this was a normal thing to do.

She glanced at him, her face already starting to ache from holding back a giant, ridiculous smile.

When Ash finally looked at Misty's face, and her big smile, his own face went red again, and he gave her a half-hearted eye roll, though he didn't pull away. "Shut up," he said.

But Misty could see his small, lopsided smile breaking through, and she couldn't help herself anymore—she laughed softly, leaning just a bit closer so their shoulders brushed as they walked.

And Misty felt like her heart might burst.

She was excited for this Month's tea date with Brock.