Cold & Spicy

Arven glances up, teal gaze meeting that of the new student. He immediately recognizes you as the very same student who took responsibility for that brute back at the lighthouse few days ago. So, you were a student here after all. Perhaps he should be keeping better track of you and Miraidon… but then again, what would that matter? Not like dad would care anything would be traced back to him if a weird looking robot lizard thing was suddenly crawling around Paldea. Lots of weird things happen in Paldea. If anything got back to him, he’d just say, that, like, 80 percent of the ocean was still unexplored, so that’s where it was from. Or something.

Your introduction is normal enough. You like Pokémon, are excited to be here, blah blah blah. Minus the innate talent you had for battling, you seem as average as the next person. Arven did notice your sweet smile, but brushed it off as easily as he would crumbs off his apron.

Well, whatever.

While a new student was seemingly inconsequential to the esteemed Uva Academy, you’d think the hallways had a mass outbreak of Combees with how the students buzzed with rumors about you the next few days.

“I heard she fell off a cliff before coming to the academy.”

“Well I heard she already beat student council president Nemona in a Pokémon battle.”

“I heard she took on Team Star on her first day!”

Even some of the academy’s teachers seemed to be whispering among themselves. While many of the rumors were stupid and mostly untrue from what Arven could tell (as he himself was well acquainted with being the butt of weird rumors) one thing seemed certain – this new student was quite skilled with Pokémon battles. Perhaps his defeat at the lighthouse wasn’t explanatory of his lack of skills, but rather a signifier of yours.

As the days passed and the academy settled into the term, Arven became less aware of the latest gossip and more focused on slowly connecting the numerous sticky notes and push pins scattered on the Paldean map on his dorm room wall. It had taken countless nights of coffee and research and more coffee, all until he was able to identify five locations mentioned in the Violet Book. The only real obstacle would be what the book called ‘Titan Pokémon,’ and with his ace being unable to even open his eyes at this point, he needed some help, fast. Thankfully, while cleaning up in the home ec classroom, another bout of whispers made it to his ears.

“I hear she claimed war against Team Star!”

“What, seriously?!”

Geez, this new girl couldn’t catch a break. He knew the annoyance of having a million rumors about him, so his heart went out to the poor transfer student.

“She transferred in at a weird time, I bet she’s just trying to get people to like her.”

“Oh, that’d make sense. Why else would you do something like that, if not for attention?”

Arven raised an eyebrow. A new, fresh face, wanting attention and affection in a scary new school? In a new country? With no friends and barely any family? Perhaps someone so moldable could help with his own little treasure hunt…

It barely took a day before catching you in the cafeteria. Arven didn’t mean to be so selfish when requesting help, but he also didn’t try to not be selfish when requesting help. He sprinkled in a little flattery, a big smile, and played into your desire to ensure your classmates like you. He spouted some nonsense about loving that picnic life, and more compliments about how you’re such a natural with Pokémon – you’d be perfect to help, so please please please?!

And just as he was hoping, he was able to rope you into helping with those pesky Titan Pokémon.

 ***

 It didn’t take long before you were both in the South Province fighting a Klawf that had no business being that size. You made quick enough work of it, and gloriously enough, the first Herba Mystica was in Arven’s grasp – and soon to be in a delicious sandwich. Step one, done, and it barely took any time! Despite all the prep work he had to do with those news articles and dusty library books to locate it, the actual Titan-beating wasn’t all too bad.

Arven splays out his purple gingham tablecloth, flicks on his lantern, sets out the ingredients, then notices you’re still standing there.

Oh, right, new student girl. You ran all the way out here to find the Titan, and he probably wouldn’t have beaten that giant Klawf with just his Shellder and Squovet, so perhaps some form of payment was due.

“Have you eaten yet?” Arven asks casually, and when you shake your head, he sets his hands on his hips. Alright, easy enough. One five-star sandwich seemed a fair enough trade for your work. “Well, then it’s your lucky day! You’re about to get a taste of my delicious, nutritious, herb-mysticious cooking.”

You smile at that, which for some reason, seems to catch Arven’s gaze for an extra second. Once that second is up, he turns back to his tablecloth filled with sandwich ingredients and gets to work. He slices, he dices, then he hands you a sandwich.

He wonders if you’ll like it.

Then he strikes the thought from his head. Of course you’ll like it! He’s a good cook. Despite that self-reassurance, Arven glances to you a few times, waiting for your reaction to the first bite. Just to see what the Herba Mystica does! Yes, that’s the only reason he’s scanning your features like that. But, despite that herb being the only reason he’s watching you, his brow furrows when that brute of a Pokémon blasts out of its Poké Ball, sniffing away at the sandwich he made for you. His jaw drops when you don’t even hesitate to give it to Miraidon! What the heck?!

“Hey!” Arven bursts out. “I went through all the trouble of making that for you, and you just give it away?! That thing didn’t even taste it, just inhaled it whole!”

You then have the gall to simply shrug. Arven scoffs.

“I hope you realize that’s all there was, so now there’s none left for you.”

“That’s fine,” you say with a smile. There’s that smile again.

“Aw, come on,” Arven sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s fine, he shouldn’t get mad at you. You don’t realize the importance of the ingredients that were in that meal, nor do you know what else Miraidon has stolen from him. “Now you’re making me feel like I’m the selfish jerk here.”

You blink a few times, but when your mouth fumbles for something to say, Arven rips his sandwich in half and holds it out to you.

“Here,” he sighs again. “You can have half of mine. But you’d better savor every last bite.”

You smile again and nod, accepting the sandwich half. He doesn’t bother watching to see if you like it – hmph.

Soon you’re both done with your respective sandwich halves, and he really needs you to get moving so he can do what he really came here for. Maybe if he started to pack up, you’d get the hint. When you motion to help fold the tablecloth, Arven shoos you away. Geez, can’t you be bothered to be selfish for one second? You find the Titan Pokémon, defeat the Titan Pokémon, give away your dinner, and are going to help with the dishes too?!

“Oh, don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll take care of it,” Arven says. “But I suppose if you want to help, I’d be much obliged if you started looking for the next Herba Mystica.”

And you actually agree.

Arven blinks a few times, returning your wave as you bound off into the night.

Huh.

You’re pretty nice, aren’t you…?

He bites his lip. Maybe you really did just help him out because you’re a good person. He lets out a sigh.

“I really owe you one,” he mutters to himself, as he pulls the Poké Ball out of his bag. Though he knows you’ve already left, he glances around just in case. His thoughts fully turn to what he really came here for. “Okay, the coast is clear. You can come out now.”

 ***

 “Did you get a good look at its face, though? I didn’t expect a Titan to be such a li’l cutie!” Arven says. He wants to call you a li’l cutie, what with how sweet and shiny your little smile was, but he settles for calling you his little buddy instead. He prepares four sandwiches, and when you raise an eyebrow at him, Arven feels a hint of red seep into his cheeks.

“O-one is to-go,” he lies. “And the other one, uh…”

You add a smirk to your raised eyebrow, and his blush deepens despite himself.

“I definitely, absolutely, did not make extra so that brute could have a sandwich, okay?” he huffs. You respond with a sarcastic ‘mmhmm’, which for some reason makes his insides twist.

Miraidon inhales the stupid sandwich whole, again, but at least he got to catch your expression after your first bite this time. You seem to like it. That’s a relief.

“Wow, this is really good Arven!” you enthuse with your shiny little smile and crumbs on your cheeks, and that makes his insides twist even tighter. Usually he’d simply agree and move on with his life, so he’s not sure why time seems to snag when he’s around you.

While he’s searching for something to say, suddenly Arven’s composure cracks when Miraidon goes for the last sandwich.

He can’t have that.

He CANNOT HAVE THAT.

“That’s not for you!” he bursts out, causing you and Miraidon to jump as his shout fades from the cave walls. Miraidon shirks back as Arven quickly snatches the sandwich from the plate. Your eyes are wide, and there’s a small pang of guilt tugging at his gut for being the reason for that fear on your face.

“I, sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled,” Arven says meekly. When you don’t say anything, just nod after a moment, he bites the inside of his cheek.

As the last echo of ‘he can’t have that’ finally fades from his mind, Arven lets out a sigh. He calculates and derives and estimates, but finally thinks that maybe… maybe it would be fine. If you knew.

Arven didn’t have any intention of sharing his deep dark backstory, but he supposes he could share with you. He kind of wants you to know, maybe it would be more bearable to not be the only one holding onto this pain. You deserve to know, now that you’ve helped him out thus far.

So, he lets Mabosstiff out of his Poké Ball. He shares what happened, and you listen intently. He can’t seem to meet your gaze, for some reason. Would you call him stupid? Unimportant? Would you leave him too?

“He’s the only thing that I really care about.”

The words slip so quietly from his lips, as gently and inconsequentially as water melts from a frozen branch when the backdrop is the sun. He isn’t sure what else to say, or why he said so much. He nearly jumps out of his skin when you suddenly pat his arm – a little awkwardly – and say,

“I’ll help.”

He meets your gaze. The intensity in your eyes is as fiery and as bright as cloudless dawn. Now it makes more sense why everyone talks about you, why everyone wants to be around you.

“I’ll help you,” you repeat. “I’ll help you find the rest of the Herba Mystica.”

It’s not that Arven ever bothers to hide who he really is (he’s been called weird and strange many times), and yet that hardened something within him seems to crack when you look at him like that, when you say something like that.

“Thank you,” is all he can manage to reply.

You nod, removing your hand from his sleeve.

Thank you… he repeats in his mind. Thank you. How can he thank you? What does gratitude look like? What does care look like? What does importance look like?

“H-have you eaten?” Arven asks suddenly, eyes flicking between yours.

You smile, eyebrow raised again. Did he say something stupid? Have you ever stood this close before?

“Um, yeah,” you say. Oh. “I just ate your sandwich.”

Oh yeah.

“Oh yeah.”

You blink. Arven blinks. Have you always had those little freckles on your nose?

“R-right!” he finally spits out. “W-well let’s get on it then, yeah? Only three more to go!”

He flashes a shiny smile at you, unsure of why his heart is pounding so fast, nor why his skin seems to tingle where you touched.

 ***

 “Ever since I teamed up with you, good things keep happening!” Arven exclaims, jumping up and down. That makes you laugh – the first time he’s heard it – and now he kind of wants to do everything he can to make you laugh again.

So he jokes and he’s a little more weird than normal and it works. It works, and he smiles because it works, and he smiles because you smile. He smiles and you smile and Mabosstiff is smiling too. It’s weak, and it’s small, but it’s the most uplifting thing he’s seen in a long time. This is the most he’s smiled in such a long time, and a lot of it is thanks to you.

“Thank you,” Arven says, suddenly gripping your hands in his. He can’t help it, he can’t help the joy that’s spilling out of every pore. “So much, thank you!”

“Y-you’re welcome,” you reply bashfully, a bit of red staining your cheeks. He wonders why you’re blushing, and it isn’t until your hands fidget in his that he realizes how close you are. Your hands are so small in his, he wonders how long you’ll let you hold them.

“Oh, sorry,” he says, quickly releasing your hands, yet still reveling in the deep blush in your cheeks.

“That’s okay,” you stutter. “I-I’m glad Mabosstiff is feeling better.”

“Me too,” Arven says. “Only two more to go.”

 ***

 It was just meant to be a brief glance your way to make a silly joke about the Stony Cliff Titan and the Klawf sticks he was putting in this sandwich, but Arven’s breath catches when he sees you in a quiet moment.

You seem so… tired, the way your head so delicately leans against that beast, the way your eyelashes flutter closed in what you think is a private moment of reprieve. Your shoulders slump, and Arven wonders how heavy that backpack is that you’ve been carrying.

His brow furrows when he wonders how heavy your shoulders feel with everything you’re carrying. Tackling the gyms, always battling that psycho student council girl, whatever it was you’re doing with Team Star, then keeping up with your actual studies, all on top of having just moved here…

His hands pause.

And here you are, donating your time and talents to a guy you barely knew.

He chews on his cheek, trying to figure out what to say. How could he help someone like you? Someone so kind and capable and kind of beautiful, he’s just now noticing? You really are just helping him because you’re a good person – what’s in it for you? He shoved off a practically useless Pokémon onto you, and you just took it in stride. At least it can glide now, apparently. Arven drums his fingers on the tablecloth, watching your chest rise and fall with each slow breath. The lamplight catches the color in your eyes, and Arven wonders again if you’ve always been this beautiful.

He's not sure why his cheeks feel warmer, now that you’ve caught him staring.

“Hey, uh,” Arven coughs out, eyes flicking back to his hands. “Have you eaten yet?”

You shake your head, eyes flitting towards the sandwiches on the table.

“Here, this one’s on the house then,” Arven says, smiling and handing you a sandwich.

You take it, smile shining as you chirp out a ‘Thanks!’ like a little bird. It makes him smile too.

“Just don’t give it to that brute,” he added with a grunt.

“No promises,” you say, and that earns you a roll of the eyes.

He’s not sure what else to say, he just knows he wants to keep talking to you. He’s not one to often get tongue-tied, so he’s not sure why it so often happens around you. You barely take a bite of the sandwich before your Rotom phone suddenly rings.

“Hey, Cassiopeia here,” came a tinny voice. “How’s Operation Starfall going?”

“Um,” you reply. Your shoulders are stiff.

“Not that there’s a time limit, but the sooner we can finish off the last three, the better… Since you’ve only gotten through two so far…”

There’s a tense silence for a moment.

“I-I was just on my way to the next base,” you spit out.

“Great to hear, I’ll be in contact when you’re close.”

“Okay,” you say simply, and start gathering your things. “I’ll be there soon.”

“I’m counting on you.”

Arven’s not sure why his heart drops. Maybe it’s how guiltily you set the sandwich back onto its plate. Maybe it’s how rigidly you sling your backpack onto your shoulders. Maybe it’s how stiffly your hands brush off the lackadaisical crumbs from your shirt.

“I should get going,” you say.

And maybe his heart was on his sleeve more than he intended, because his expression makes you pause.

“O-or I could stay?” you say suddenly.

“What?”

“Do you, um,” you stammer. “I could stay? For a little bit longer? You just, um. You seemed sad.”

“No! No, that’s okay, you should get going,” he says. “Well, unless you want to?”

He wished he hadn’t asked, because he doesn’t like the thick pause that comes afterwards.

“O-or, you shou-“

“I should go-“ you say in unison.

Your eyes meet for another moment. Arven clears his throat.

“Just don’t forget about that last Titan!” he says, forcing a smile on his face. “I’m counting on you, little buddy!”

You pause, and something in your expression shifts. You don’t say another word when you hoist your backpack higher on your shoulders, then head out into the desert sand. As soon as you leave, Arven practically deflates, slumping onto the boulder beside Mabosstiff.

He’s heard you mention this operation before, but suddenly his skin prickles in frustration, especially when picturing your expression upon leaving. Why are you the one who has to do everything? Why are you the one that has to take down what’s basically an entire student rebellion? What are the academy’s faculty even bothering to do about Team Star?! Why do you have to leave him because of it?

…But then again, why are you the one that has to tackle the Titans for him? Arven rubs his hands over his face.

“I wonder how often she hears that,” Arven wonders aloud, patting Mabosstiff on the head, who lets out a curious grunt. “’I’m counting on you,’ I mean. People always need her for stuff. She shouldn’t have all of that pressure on her.”

Mabosstiff just grunts again.

He’s so close to the last Herba Mystica, and the herbs really are helping Mabosstiff, so he still needs your help… but…

Arven lets out another thoughtful sigh.

But maybe after that… he could… do something for you? Or something. Just… something to make you smile again. Or smile more. Or just something to help ease that slump in your shoulders.

You are his little buddy, after all.

 ***

 You’re both soaking wet and shivering from the False Dragon Titan, then the other False Dragon Titan, then from the storm outside the cave, but you’re both smiling. It was maybe a little too early to play some hardcore fetch, but Mabosstiff had been romping around the cave for a while. Arven said it was just the rain, but he knew you didn’t believe him when the tears kept pouring.

His tear tracks have since dried, and Mabosstiff and Miraidon are snoozing beside the makeshift fire he started. The storm doesn’t seem like it’ll be letting up anytime soon, but Arven doesn’t really mind since you look really pretty in the light of the fire you both could use a rest after felling the final Titan. You’ll get to the lighthouse lab soon enough, as Dad requested, but right now it was nice to just… sit. Alone with you.

“Are you cold?” he asks, and just as you knew when he was lying about him crying, he knows you’re lying when you shake your head. He rolls his eyes and pulls his winter jacket out of his backpack, draping it over your shoulders. “At least this is dry.”

You mutter out a sheepish ‘thank you’, and Arven nods, smiling lightly at how his coat practically swallows you whole.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he says as you adjust the coat around you. “For your help.”

Maybe it’s the euphoria of his best friend feeling healthy again, or maybe it’s the subdued atmosphere of the cave’s thick air, or maybe it’s some third thing, that Arven lets slip something he would usually keep hidden.

“You mean a lot to me,” he says suddenly. He’s not quite sure what he’s saying, or why he’s saying it. “Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, smile forming on your lips. You’re so cute in his coat. He wonders if you’re any warmer.

You sit in a peaceful silence, save the rain outside and the crackling of the fire. You rustle when you pull his coat tighter around your shoulders.

“If you’re still cold, I-I could, uh,” he stammers, words still spilling from his mouth like melting snow. He could what? His voice catches. “I could…”

I could hold you

I could hold you close to me

I could help keep you warm

“M-make you something else to eat? Something warm?” he finally spits out.

“That spicy Herba Mystica was more than warm enough,” you chuckle. “But thank you, Arven.”

His name sounds so sweet when it slips from your lips like that.

He isn’t able to revel in it long before your Rotom phone sounds its familiar ring.

“Hey! Where are you at now?” came the tinny voice.

“Lake Casseroya,” you say. ‘With Arven’ is what he wants you to add.

“How’s your gym circuit going? You’re so close! You should head to Montenevera next, I’m actually headed that way myself!”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there,” you say, and Arven’s brow furrows.

“Great! I’m counting on you!”

The click of the phone is a click of closure as you shake off Arven’s jacket with a quiet sigh.

You both stand, and you turn, just for Arven to catch your hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and your eyes widen at the question. “How have you been faring?”

Your eyes immediately well with tears – an expression that tightens Arven’s chest, that swirls guilt in his gut. The glassiness in your eyes formed their sheen as quickly as the rain hits the lake outside. How long have your tears been barely at bay?

Oh, little buddy… how could he have not even bothered to ask this until now? His brow furrows when you tear your gaze from his to look at a new text on your phone.

“N-Nemona is waiting for me,” you say suddenly. “She wants to be champions together s-so I have to… I want her to be happy. She needs my help. I’ll meet you at the lab afterwards.”

And with that you push his coat into his chest and run out of the cave, and Arven can only watch your retreating silhouette until its melds with the pouring rain.

His fists clench, heat welling within him.

That stupid student council girl, what was her name? It didn’t matter, but what mattered is how his chest tightened when someone’s stolen you away from him yet again. Didn’t she realize the world doesn’t revolve around Pokémon battles?! Did you even want to be a champion, or are you just doing the gym circuit because Nemona said you should? Had she ever even asked?

His heart dropped.

Had he ever even asked…?

Had he ever even asked about what the treasure was that you were looking for? Had he ever asked what was important to you? You’re running errands for everyone in Paldea, and his dad too, apparently, but was any of it anything you even wanted?

He wanted to think of you, of how to help you, but the thought of his father welled an overwhelming wave of anxiety in his chest. He had to be selfish for a little longer, at your expense. He pinches the bridge of his nose, patting Mabosstiff when he rests his head on Arven’s lap. This was supposed to be everything he wanted – his Pokémon was the only thing he cared about. But now with you and with Dad and with Area Zero…

Arven heaves out a deep sigh, as heavy as Lake Casseroya itself.

 ***

 It’s time. He’s collected Nemona and Penny, and now he just needs you before heading to Area Zero. Mabosstiff is barking away, jumping at his phone at the sound of your voice, but it just makes Arven’s chest tight.

 ***

 The student council president and the pipsqueak are snoozing soundly inside while you and Arven forage for snacks. Nemona was trying to secretly nurse an injury, but her suspicious lack of stamina didn’t go unnoticed by him. Penny wasn’t used to the treacherous landscape either, so spending the night in the third base of Area Zero seemed like a wise move. They had an incredibly strong team between the four of them, so there were plenty of Pokémon to keep watch while they slept and while you foraged close by.

“Do you need a break?” you ask.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Arven replies, sighing as he stands straight. His back cracks as he leans backwards far enough to see the sky – or rather, the layer of fog that separated this world from the rest of Paldea.

The air between you has been tense since the final Titan, and Arven knows it’s mostly his fault. Maybe he feels guilty. Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he's had every emotion coursing through his veins and beating through his heart for the past few days. There’s you and his dad and… well, mainly that was it. But there were so many combinations of those two things, of those two people, that made his head feel like radio static the entire time he’s been in this forsaken place.

“Do you want to go back in?” you ask, stepping over to him. Your skin and eyes seem to glow as glitter floats around you. He wishes you weren’t so beautiful.

“No, it smells like mildew in there,” Arven says, snacking on a Sitrus berry he found.

There’s another tense pause between you.

“Arven,” you say suddenly. He feels like when Mabosstiff eats off the counter when he shouldn’t – he can barely look at you, but he does.

He wishes he hadn’t. While you don’t have the bags under your eyes like you used to, the sorrow in your gaze cracks his heart even further.

“Arven are you mad at me?” you ask, so brokenly.

“What?” he breathes out. “No, of course not, why would you think that?”

“You just… you’ve been distant. And distracted, I don’t know,” you say.

“I just have a lot on my mind, it’s not you,” he says. Only one of those things was a lie.

“You’re right, you’re right,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be selfish.”

“You’re not!” Arven blurts out. “You’re not selfish, don’t say that. You’re the least selfish person I know, honest.”

You shrug, and before he can stop himself, Arven is stepping towards you, gripping your shoulders in his hands.

“I mean it,” Arven says. “This has just been…”

The worst few days of my life

My dad loves you more than me

My dad loves Miraidon more than me

I’m scared of seeing my dad.

“I’m scared of seeing my dad,” he says.

He didn’t realize he had said it.

What is it about you that loosens his tongue like this? You’re confusion and clarity all in one.

“Arven,” you say again, and the determination in your voice draws him closer to you like a magnet. “Whatever happens,” you say, emotion catching in your throat. “Whatever happens I’ll be here for you, okay? I won’t leave you. I hope you can make amends with your dad but… but whatever happens I’m here for you.”

His heart can barely beat, as shattered as it is, and yet you try to mold it back together as you wrap your arms around him.

 ***

 “H-hey,” you say, gently closing the door behind you. Mabosstiff bolts off the bed to greet you, which is just enough distraction for Arven to wipe the tears from his face. In his defense, Mabosstiff hasn’t seen you since the events of Area Zero. When you finally manage to push the Pokémon off of you, you make your way to Arven, then gently sit beside him on the bed.

“Hi,” Arven replies thickly, trying to discreetly shove the bundles of tissues beneath his bed.

“How are you doing?” you ask. He wishes you wouldn’t look at him like that, with such genuine care in your eyes. When you so delicately set your hand on his arm, immediately everything comes flooding back – the memories and the feelings and the tears, so overwhelming that all he can do is turn to you, to fall into your arms, to sob into your shoulder as you wrap your arms around him.

Everything. The loneliness, the pain, the betrayal, the abandonment. What was he to his father? What was he to anyone? Was there anyone who cared? If his own mother left when he was born and his father left years ago too, who was he but a lump of rotting meat, just taking up space in a world so hastily moving towards the future?

He isn’t sure how long he’s crying into your shirt, nor how long you’ve been rubbing his back as you sit on his bed. Mabosstiff’s head is resting beside him, and Arven sniffles when he pushes his cold nose under Arven’s hand.

“I’m here for you,” you mumble into his hair, and Arven can barely manage a nod. You don’t seem to mind.

More time has passed, where now you’re cradling him in your arms, leaned against the wall beside his bed. The window is cracked, letting in the cool breeze of dusk. He pushes himself off of you, surprised to see your eyes are red too. You stare at one another, unsure of what to say. He rests his head on top of yours, since now your shoulder is soaked with tears. You sit there, beside one another, until dusk pulls into the night. Arven eye’s flutter open when you clear your throat.

What will you say? ‘Get over it’? ‘You should be proud to have a father like him’? ‘It’s no big deal’? How will you frame your sentence to hide the fact that the world lost his father, rather than the fact that he lost his father?

“Um, h-have you eaten yet?” you ask.

Has.

Has he

Has he eaten yet?

Arven blinks.

Has he…

He shakes his head.

“I brought some sandwiches,” you say. He nods, and you wiggle out from your spot on his bed and over to your bag. “They’re not as good as yours, of course, but I thought I’d try my hand at a new recipe.”

He meets you at the edge of the bed, where you hand off a sandwich. You got one for Mabosstiff, because of course you did, and when you look at him with such kind, hopeful eyes, Arven isn’t quite sure what to say.

“I know you’ve been through so much,” you say. “But you’ve got people who care about you and want to be there for you!”

You smile at him – that small, shiny smile, and Arven’s breath catches in his throat.

Thank you

This means so much to me

I feel so seen

So cared about

You’re so thoughtful

“I love you,” he says.

And something finally clicks.

That’s what this is – love.

You’re attentive and kind and you’re there for him. You’re here. You’re here, right now, holding him, and you have been for hours at this point. For days, for weeks.

You’re here.

You’re here, and, and, and and you help him and you think about him and he doesn’t have to beg for your attention and and… and.

“And you’re everything I’ve needed,” Arven says through a wet sniffle. His words are pouring out like a snowy peak’s river – building strength the further it travels, the further it warms. “I’ve been through a lot and you’ve been through a lot but you’re there for me and you help me and I want to help you and when I’m around you I feel supported and I think you’re so beautiful and-“

Arven keeps listing, and listing, and revealing every thought he’s crossed out in his mind until Mabosstiff lets out a whine, reminding him to breathe. Arven sucks in a breath, closes his mouth, eyes wide, now realizing that while he’s finally realized it to himself, he’s now realized it out loud to you.

“I love you,” he says again. “Sorry – was that? Was that a lot?” he sniffles.

And your smile isn’t like the sunset of a sepia-toned memory, but like the bright clear dawn of home and of comfort and of knowing that you’ll always be there. You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek – it’s a little sloppy, and a little wet, but neither of you seem to mind.

“I love you too,” you say simply. “Now lets eat before the sandwich bread gets any soggier… or before you get any soggier.”

“Gross,” Arven says, smiling a free, warm, genuine smile for the first time in days. In years. As you head towards your bag, he risks another question. “Maybe after dinner, we could read something together? Or watch a movie or something? Just…just be together?”