#avery's fics

———

You'd been practically dragged to this ridiculous fancy-rich-people party, and when you'd had to leave urgently to deal with more rogue mega pokemon, you'd been stalked, coerced, and quite literally kidnapped until you had finally agreed to go back. Normally after dealing with a wave of rogue megas, you'd go back to your hotel room to pass out for however long, letting your battle weary body finally rest. Not this time, however, as you had been dragged back to the stupid fancy party by the host's maid-dress-clad right-hand-lady before you could even get in the door. You couldn't even blame her for doing so, however, not after hearing how'd she gotten her position in the first place.

When you finally got back over there, and despite you practically begging; Jacinthe, the tournament's host, insisted that her "perfect" tournament must start now, and there was absolutely no time for something like a nap first.

You had managed to get through the tournament thus far, including Zygarde's impromptu additional battle. You were already thinking about stopping at that Café Nouveau place you liked (the one with the pretty waitress) before going back to the hotel to collapse. You weren't sure if it was just your fatigue talking, but you were beginning to forget when the last time you slept was. Was it one day...? Two? More than that? You truly had no idea anymore. However long it had been, you were going to need the caffeine afterwards. But before you could get your drink (and your nap...), you had one more match. Jacinthe herself, actually. And she was your next promotion match, so there was absolutely no way you were getting out of this.

But just because you were tired—utterly exhausted, really— didn't mean that you were just going to give in and let her win so easily. You were going to win, you were going to get your payback for everything she had put you through, and you would get your rank B. Then you could FINALLY get some sleep.

Before your battle, Urbain tried to give a final enthusiastic pep-talk, but all of his words just sort of melted together in one mass of vague encouragement in your head. As you stepped up to the battlefield, you were approached by Corbeau, and from what you remember of the stern-yet-worried expression on his face, and the way he reached out for your shoulder—almost as if he was steadying you from falling right over—you knew you really weren't doing well by then... But, stubborn as ever, you'd insisted you'd be just fine, and with that he reluctantly let you continue up to the battlefield with one last assurance of his own.

Your battle was by no means an easy victory, only made harder by your fatigue; but you and your loyal pokemon had just barely managed to pull it off, you had won. You could finally leave this stupid fancy party, change out of your ridiculous fancy outfit, and get back to the hotel. You were beginning to think you'd need that coffee just to have energy to even get back, and that was if you could even make it over to the café...

—

You could barely manage even staggering by the time you reached the café's truck. You collapsed onto one of the benches as soon as you'd gotten close enough to one. You were still wearing the ridiculous fancy outfit you'd been somehow convinced into wearing. And your eyes could barely stay open as you struggled to keep your head from nodding straight onto the table.

"So, hypothetically, how much espresso do you think you could you put into one drink? And can I order that?" you'd asked wearily to the waitress when she had come over to where you were barely managing to stay concious. She gave you a suspicious glare as she looked over your tired form, arms crossed as if she were judging you, and she definitely was.

"You look like you need to sleep, not to fill yourself up on caffeine," she commented in a rather harsh tone.

"I... I will," you protested weakly, "I just... I need it to get back... to my hotel..." you explained, your words slurring together a bit. You had to physically hold up your own head at this point, as it began to feel like weighed a million pounds on its own.

"Mhm. Sure, definitely..." the waitress added sarcastically. "I'll get you one of those Ember Roasts that you like, but then you'd better go and get some rest. I'll have Charizard drag you back if I have to. Deal?"

"Yes, please..." you agreed quietly.

"Good, now try not to pass out while you wait, okay?" she teased you lightly.

After a solid minute of processing, you were surprised to realize that she had remembered your order, without you even saying anything.

"Wait... you... you remember me? You remember what I get?" you asked her curiously as she turned to walk away.

"I remember how much of a tired wreck you always are when you show up, it makes it easier," the waitress replied smugly as she briefly turned back to you.

Okay. Just a few minutes and you'd have your drink. Just a few more minutes... Though maybe you could close your eyes just for a second... It wasn't like you'd fall asleep or anything... Despite your best efforts not to, you slowly slid back against the bench, your head eventually hitting the wooden seat with a soft thunk.

_

When Griselle had returned with your promised coffee, she threw her head back into a groaning sigh, seeing you soundly asleep on the café bench, still in your ridiculous gaudy suit. She had been joking when she told you not to pass out earlier; And she almost wished she hadn't said that at all... She set down your drink on the table anyways and then just kinda stared at you a bit. You were awfully still in your sleep. Almost concerningly so.

"Hey, Gris, come here for a second," Griselle called over to café's baristo, sounding somewhere between annoyed and concerned. She curiously poked a couple times at your soundly asleep body; you were not, in fact, dead, but it sure looked like it.

"Oh, they've fallen asleep, have they?" Grisham stated innocently, looking over you, "My, they look so tired..." he stated with sympathetic concern.

"They look dead," Griselle added flatly, hesitantly poking you one more time. The pair struggled to see if your chest was still rising and falling through the ruffles of your outfit, and concern flooded into their expressions as they looked at each other.

"Perhaps I'll just... confirm that they really are sleeping..." Grisham suggested awkwardly, sincerely hoping you had not just died on the café's premises. He approached you, and carefully reached down for your neck, checking you for a pulse.

Thankfully, you were warm and you definitely still had a pulse. You seemed to be fine; just VERY tired. Grisham sat down next to you on the bench where you lie, inspecting you closer.

"I think now is a good time for a break, don't you, Griselle?" he asked her with a smile. She wasn't gonna argue with a break. Grisham carefully lifted your head up onto his leg, letting you rest your tired head in his lap; figuring it'd be a bit more comfortable than the bench. You let out a soft moan and stirred a tiny bit, but didn't actually wake up. He began to idly stroke your hair, in a gentle petting motion. Griselle gave him an odd look when she noticed.

"What do you think you're doing? Stop doing that, it's weird," she chided at her coworker's strangely affectionate gesture. "They don't even know your name yet and now you're going to let them sleep in your lap?"

"They're tired, they clearly need the rest. I've just made them a bit more comfortable," Grisham defended calmly. "Though I suppose we've yet to introduce ourselves properly before now, haven't we?"

"And you say like that like you haven't been doing it on purpose..." Griselle added.

As much as he probably shouldn't have, and as much he wouldn't admit to it no matter how much Griselle would tease him about it; Grisham could at least admit to himself that he had taken a liking to you in particular...

Like Griselle would, he'd notice when you'd show up to the café, always looking so exhausted. Sometimes you'd show up with those friends of yours, and sometimes you'd just come by yourself (and maybe a pokemon). But either way, your tired face would remain unchanged. He would wonder about it sometimes: Did you just always look like that? Did you have insomnia like he did? What job did you even work to get yourself this tired all the time?

Once or twice he'd thought of just asking you himself—politely, of course—but never did, not wanting to pry into your personal life too much. Maybe he would when you woke up, if he found the courage to. He wasn't insecure– he was just... aware of himself. And everything that would make people off-put from him...

At least you looked peaceful as you napped, despite your otherwise fancy and frazzled appearance. He was rather curious about that too, though he could guess it had something to do with how Lebanne had showed up your gathering at the café a few days ago. It seemed like Griselle was thinking the same thing.

"What do you think they even were doing in that ridiculous get-up?" Griselle pondered aloud, looking down at you as you slept.

"I believe they may have gone and gotten themselves entangled in that SBC group..." Grisham replied sympathetically.

"Ugh, I'm not surprised it'd be them. They're so pushy..." Griselle scoffed, "And I was wondering what Lebanne had been here for... But it looks like they got another one." Griselle didn't personally know Jacinthe, but she was old friends with Lebanne. She was also pretty sure that she and Grisham would have been hassled by them all the time as well had they not kept their identities mostly secretive.

"The poor thing..." Grisham added solemnly.

"Well, they're not in a maid outfit yet, and they did come here by themselves... Maybe they're not totally lost..." Griselle suggested hopefully. Her words seemed to spark something inside of Grisham, sparked a feeling. A fullness in his grew in his chest as he looked down at you, still so peaceful in your sleep, and a small smile grew across his face. He knew then that you were something he wanted to protect.

——

Despite him saying they would just be taking break, it was an hour later, and Grisham hadn't moved from where he had sat with you, even with Griselle heckling him about it. He just didn't want leave you or wake you up yet...

Suddenly you stirred a bit with a groan, and he looked back down to you as your eyes began to flicker open. The first sensation you felt as you awoke was how your head felt like it was on something soft and warm, or at least, more than you'd expect from the wooden bench you laid on. When your eyes blinked open you were immediately surprised to see your eyes lock with someone else's. Eyes narrow, piercing, and auburn in color looked down at you, and you felt your heart skip a beat or two as you suddenly filled with panic.

You tried to sit up, but you found you couldn't. You were still exhausted and feeling sore, and thought that might've been why, but you found you actually couldn't sit up due to a hand placed over your chest, gently urging you to lay back down. You realized you had been laying in someone's lap. Sweet Arceus, you had done it now. In your exhaustion you had gone and fallen asleep on someone for who knows how long...

Shame grew inside of you as you quickly began to stutter a still-half-asleep apology, "Did... did I fall asleep on you?! I'm so, so, so sorry–! I-I promise I didn't mean to!"

You further realized from the way the man's expression briefly shifted to a pleasant eyes-closed smile who's lap you had fallen asleep in. You had somehow fallen asleep on the café's baristo, the man who normally stood behind the counter of the truck.

"Please calm down, alright?" he soothed, "You've nothing to be sorry for," he calmly assured you, looking at you with a sympathetic expression. Looking back into his eyes, you realized you had actually never even seen them before now... Your brain was still clouded, but you would absolutely remember if you had seen eyes like his before...

"B-but I fell asleep on you... A-and you're working..." You sputtered in response.

"I've taken a break, it's no problem," he said nonchalantly. Great. You had managed to fall asleep on him on his break. That was arguably worse, you thought.

"Still... I doubt you wanted a stranger falling asleep onto you while you're trying to relax... I'm sorry..." you apologized to him again, cringing, still full of embarassment.

"And I told you you've nothing to apologize for," he repeated to you. "You've not caused me any trouble at all, alright?" He was insistent on reassuring you, reaching down to cradle the side of your face in an oddly affectionate gesture. You let out an embarrassing squeak at it.

"You looked so awfully exhausted, I only wanted to let you rest a bit more comfortably," he explained to you sympathetically. The dots were beginning to connect in your mind, but they still didn't make very much sense to you.

"You... let me sleep on you?" you guessed, still sounding quite confused. He nodded at you with a warm smile. "F-for how long?" you asked. He was about to answer you, but you heard a woman's voice interject first.

"Oh, you're finally up? You were out for like, an hour..." she informed you, you looked up and saw it was the pretty waitress. Now you were only more embarrassed.

"I knew this was a bad idea. I told you it was weird, Gris, but you wouldn't listen," she chided her colleague. You wondered if what she called him was his name. You realized you didn't actually know it. You didn't know either of their names, despite how many times you had come there.

"I thought I told you not to pass out when I left, didn't I?" she teased you with faux-annoyance. "You were so still when I got back that I thought you died." You got flustered when heard that. As if you weren't embarrassed enough...

"Griselle, leave them alone, please? They're already stressed enough," the man turned and reprimanded her. 'Griselle' must've been her name. She let out an angry huff and gave him a final dirty look before sulking off.

"'Gris'?" you repeated back to him, "Is that your name?" you questioned, looking up at him confused.

"Grisham," he corrected you gently and with a warm expression. "That's my name, yes." He gave you a little nod of confirmation.

"Do you always wait until someone's fallen asleep on you to tell them your name?" you asked, your tone playful. Grisham laughed a bit in response.

"I think I'd have to say no to that," he replied, "You are... a special case," he added, a bit awkwardly.

"I'm special? Because you didn't tell me for so long?" you guessed, though you weren't bitter about it.

"You are special," he paused. Special to him, and especially cute, he'd wanted to say, but didn't. "But not for that reason," Grisham said instead. "I had meant to tell you sooner, my apologies for that."

"Oh," you responded simply, "Are you shy?" your tone was genuine and not teasing, but it felt that way to him as he fought to keep a reddish blush from coming to his cheeks.

Shy for you? Definitely. He wanted to say. "No... not... usually," Grisham strained out his response like it hurt to say the words, and he technically wasn't even lying.

"Oh, and uhh, thanks for umm... doing this for me, Grisham..." You thanked him quietly, trying not to get flustered yourself, still mildly embarassed about the whole thing.

You were still laying in his lap after all this time. And seeing you look up at him like you did, and hearing the way his name came so beautifully off of your lips, Grisham almost couldn't take it. He had to subtly bite the inside of his to maintain his composure. Why did you have to be so cute? Why couldn't he just come out and say something about it?

"You're very welcome. But please do get some more rest soon, okay?" His tone remained as even as it had been, but by now a deep red flush had covered Grisham's cheeks.

"I... will," you promised, blushing just as much him now. Neither of you could look at each other anymore. "You probably need to get back to work, don't you..." you asked solemnly, secretly not wanting your moment with him to end.

"I believe I do," Grisham confirmed, seemingly just as melancholic about it as you were. He helped you carefully sit back up, and then got up from the bench himself. You wanted to protest at loss of his comfortable warmth cradling you, but you resisted.

But just as he turned to walk back up to the truck, he suddenly went still. He made a decision in that moment: He wasn't going to wait any longer.

"Do you"—Grisham struggled to push out the words that felt caught in his throat—"have any plans for dinner tonight? Would you perhaps care to join me after I've finished here?" You let out a surprised squeak at his proposition as heat flooded your face.

"I... would like that..." you confessed to him quietly. "I promise I won't fall asleep on you... again," you said with awkward laughter.

"And I promise I won't mind if you do," Grisham added fondly as he started back towards the truck again. You got up and suddenly wrapped your arms around him from behind into a hug, startling him just a tiny bit.

"I'll see you later."

Grisham freed one of his arms from where yours pinned them to his side to brush a strand of hair from your face, and turned his head back to where you clung to him, "Come back at 8, alright?"

In one ultimate act of affection, he leaned in just a bit more to you, and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

"UGH, will you stop being GROSS and get back to WORKING already?!" Griselle complained loudly at the sight.

You released him from your tight embrace, and began to walk away when you heard hin call to you, hanging off the truck's door.

"Why don't you stay for a drink? You never had yours earlier," he offered looking rather smug, doing it if only just to spite his repulsed co-worker a little more.

"That sounds great," you agreed with a smug look of your own, returning right back to your table.

———

———

Your fork clattered onto your plate mid-bite, as you heard what was said behind you. You glanced over at your boyfriend with a serious look on your face. You and Grisham were trying to have a nice date at a café, and you were, until someone sitting behind you just had to make some rude comment about him.

They couldn't have known what a mistake they had just made; the can of Wurmples that they had just opened.

Unfortunately, it wasn't uncommon for this sort of thing to happen, people whispering (or not even bothering to do that much) about all of their stupid prejudices about him. You weren't a particularly angry person most of the time, and you were just a little afraid of confrontation, but seeing the way that some people would treat him–knowing first-hand how sweet and caring he really was– it made your blood boil, without fail.

You exchanged looks with Grisham, your expression dead serious, his concerned. Neither of you had said anything aloud, but the silence still felt loud. It felt tense in a way neither of you liked.

A harsh sound came from your metal chair scraping against the pavement as you stood suddenly. Grisham reached across the table for your hand, silently pleading with you to leave it, to not do anything drastic. As normally persuasive as your boyfriend was, this just wasn't something you could agree to, you thought.

You gave him one last glare, as if to say "I'm gonna do something about it."

"Darling... please," Grisham finally broke the silence between you, making one last attempt to stop you.

You spun around on your heel, turning to find out which person had made the comment. Your fists were now balled up and shaking at your side, your nails digging into palms.

And just as you opened your mouth to begin your tirade, you felt your arms being quickly yet gently grabbed from behind you.

"Wha- hey! Lemme go! I need to–" you protested looking back to see that it was your boyfriend who had restrained you.

"I can't do that, darling, I know what you're going to do, and I cannot let it happen," Grisham expresses with worry.

"Yeah, I'm gonna kill them is what I'm gonna do–" you hissed, trying to pull yourself free from him. You were seeing red now, and more than just the red in the eyes of your beloved.

"No, you most certainly will not be doing that! Absolutely not!" Grisham reprimanded, hearing your threat. He suddenly picked you up off of your feet, putting you over his shoulder to make absolutely sure you wouldn't be making good on it. You began wiggling and thrashing in protest trying to get down.

"Nooooo! Put me down!! I must enact my retribution!!" you whined loudly as he held you.

"No, no retribution. We've talked about this before, darling..." Grisham reminded you, keeping you suspended without issue despite all of your squirming.

"IF THEY DON'T WANNA DIE THEN MAYBE THEY SHOULDN'T HAVE SAID ANYTHING!! UNHAND ME!" You shouted, seething. Most of the time Grisham would find your devotion and passion for him cute, but that was because most of the time it was harmless. You could also be (for lack of a better term) an absolutely feral little beast sometimes.

"No one is dying tonight. Calm down or I'll have to carry you home, right now," Grisham refuted firmly, somehow still keeping his voice relatively calm.

"NEVER!! GYARADOS USE HYP—" the end of your command was cut off when Grisham covered your mouth with his hand to stop you from finishing it. You'd managed to release your Gyarados at some point as it waited for your instructions.

"And absolutely no hyper beams either, darling. We're going home now," Grisham informed as he gave you another reprimanding look. He'd be a little more worried if he didn't know that your gyarados in particular thankfully didn't know hyper beam. It was just something you'd say when you'd wanted to scare to someone, which was quite successful, as the person who had started all of this was now staring at the two of you speechlessly, face paler than a litwick's wax.

Grisham managed to leave the payment for your meal on your table without putting you down, and then carry you off (all while you were still protesting).

—

"Did all that shouting tire you out, darling?" Grisham questioned you teasingly after you had finally calmed down and quit all your yelling and thrashing. He slid you down from his shoulder to reposition you into his arms. You had a pouting expression on your face.

"You didn't need to do that..." you groaned quietly.

"I believe that I absolutely did..." he insisted, looking down at you with a stern expression.

"I don't like it when people say mean things about you..." you whined, trying to justify your actions. What you did wasn't your fault, they should've just kept their stupid mouth shut...

"I can tell, darling. But just for future reference, can you at least try to have just a bit more self-control, perhaps?" Grisham suggested, his expression softer now.

"Maybe..." you murmured, still with a pouting frown on your face.

You knew he wasn't really upset with you. He knew that you just wanted to defend him. It's just that you (and your mildly feral tendencies) worried him a bit. Ok, a little more than a little bit. Maybe you could dial it back some... But you'd never stop.

"Thank you, darling. Now will you smile for me? You're very cute when you're pouting, but you know how much I love it when you show me that adorable grin of yours," Grisham coaxed, pulling you up and giving you one of those soft forehead kisses that you loved. It made you let out a soft giggle as you began to grin in just the way he had described.

"There it is."

———

———

You loved your pokemon, Absol.

You loved your boyfriend, Grisham, too.

Both of those facts had earned you a fair bit of attention. Was that attention always positive? No. Were you going to let that stop you? Hell no.

Stares as you walked past. Things whispered behind your back or from people who thought you couldn't hear them. Confrontations from ""concerned"" strangers who'd give you their unsolicited ""advice"" (weird how it somehow it always turned out to just be their personal prejudices... huh...)

"That pokemon of yours is nothing but bad news. 'Disaster Pokemon' for a reason, I say," An old man commented after you as you walked past him, taking Absol for a walk.

Really? Your Absol? The one that had saved you from getting yourself seriously hurt no less than... six times? But no, clearly you'd be swept up in some freak Absol-related disaster, any day now...

"How long, do you think, until that thing loses it and attacks them?" "I'll bet soon," a group of boys whisper rather loudly between themselves, between snarky laughs.

Attacks you, huh? Did they mean the pokemon that was so protective over you that it still wouldn't let Griselle even get close to you without a defensive growl, because of the one threat she made towards you? Three months ago? But no, clearly it was going to turn on you any minute now...

"You should be more careful around that pokemon, that vicious monster would probably tear you apart without a second thought if you're not," said the man you'd just battled, seeing you kneel down to give Absol some congratulatory tummy rubs afterwards.

Oh really? Without a second thought? Like the time Absol had just barely clipped you using night slash fighting in a battle zone, and then whimpered sadly at you with big, watery, guilty eyes about it until you got a bandage to put over it (though it was so small it barely even bled). And then didn't feel better until you told it at least 5 different times that you were okay? But no, a truly mindless killing machine your pokemon was...

—

"Who'd actually want someone like him for a partner?" the man asked, "I feel so bad, he must be forcing her to..." the lady across from him frowned.

Ah yes, because Grisham wasn't someone you could just choose to be in love with, clearly he must have to force you to. Like how he'd constantly say that he loved you, but didn't deserve you, that you were too good for him, or that you deserved better than him... (hah, like someone like that even existed...) Oh, you were just so trapped, it was a just tragedy.

"Oh please, honey. He doesn't care about you, just himself. All of those awful flare people are all the same; selfish," the old woman lectured you as told her about your sweet boyfriend.

So, so selfish your boyfriend was, the same man who'd spontaneously pick you up and carry you around sometimes just so you didn't have to walk. Who'd get up early to make you breakfast in bed, in just exactly the way you liked. Who'd quickly drop whatever he'd been doing and rush to your side to catch you every time you were going to fall over because you stood up too fast (again). Very selfish behavior, how did you not see it sooner.

"You're not even worried what people are going to think of you?" you'd heard from so many people you'd lost count.

Clearly. If it had been this long and you hadn't. You had no 'reputation' to uphold, you weren't even from this city. You had no interest in pleasing random strangers who couldn't even have the decency to keep their mouths shut about their own prejudices.

And if somebody had a problem with that? They could face yours and your pokemon's battling wrath. Your alpha gyarados (the one with a head the same size as your body and fangs the size of your arms) would be happy to show it to them.

—

So while the rest of the world waited for your "inevitable" demise, you were perfectly content to be snuggled between Grisham's arms from behind you and have your hands in Absol's soft fur on top of you.

You loved your pokemon Absol and your boyfriend Grisham. And you'd never let anyone stop you from it.

———

As you approached the Café Nouveau truck in the quickly waning evening sunlight, you spotted all the normal people and pokemon around the café, and an extra one?

You saw Grisham inside the truck, Charizard beside it, Griselle on the opposite side, and a... Camerupt next to her?

It took you a minute to remember that she even had a Camerupt. It was sitting next to her almost like some kind of dog pokemon would, though it was much larger than any kind of dog pokemon would be. It had an almost comically mad expression on its face, and steam escaped in small, angry, bursts from its large nostrils. It kind of reminded you of Griselle herself, in a way. You fought back a laugh at the sight as you approached.

"Why are you smiling so much? What's so funny?" Griselle questioned, suspicious of your large grin that usually meant trouble.

"Can't I just be happy to see you? I came all the way over here to pick you up, and I'm happy to see you," you replied with faux-offense.

"Well, for one, you're early, and two, you usually only have that smile when you've done something," she explained with her arms crossed impatiently, waiting for you to confess to whatever stupid thing you've gone and gotten yourself into now. Grisham didn't say anything, but you swear you could hear him make a vague noise of agreement.

"Okay, I came early on purpose 'cuz I was really craving a croissant... and also maybe some Roserade tea..." you admitted to her sheepishly. "But I'm laughing at the fact your Camerupt is pouting like a big, angry puppy," you said, unable to contain your laughter at the sight anymore.

"Oh, her? She's mad because I said I wouldn't give her second dinner," Griselle explained, giving her Camerupt a side-eye as she did.

"She's pouting?" you asked as you continued to crack up.

"Yea, and it's very funny until she starts using earthquake about it..." Griselle said more towards her pokemon than you, in a scolding tone. Camerupt let out an especially large huff at that.

"She looks like you when you're mad. Just as cute, too..." you teased with a grin. Your comment seemed to make Grisham choke on absolutely nothing, a strangled noise escaping him. Maybe he was just trying not to laugh himself.

Griselle did not appreciate the comparison as much as you did. Nor did she like being called 'cute'. She was a grown woman, not a baby pokemon, she did not need to be called cute. You knew both of those things, and she knew it was one of your favorite things to tease her about.

"See? Just like that! You look... just... like her..." You observed, confident at first, before quickly realizing her growing ire was not in fact, for demonstration...

A quiet laugh escaped Grisham as he looked over at the scene. The comparison was rather striking. And perhaps just a little funny. At least until Griselle turned on him instead.

"Are you seriously LAUGHING over there?! This is NOT funny, Gris!" Griselle snapped at her colleague who was struggling to contain his entertainment at situation.

"O-of course not," Grisham denied, though his tone and the way he was still concealing a smile beneath his hand said otherwise. You laughed akwardly as you backed away from Griselle slowly, closer to Grisham.

"Perhaps you should go, now..." Grisham advised quietly, handing you your drink and pastry.

"Good idea, I'll uh- I'll go home and start dinner, okay?" You momentarily set down your things to give Griselle a hug, a very awkward and tentative one at that, "Okay, bye, love you..." You gave her one last very quick peck on the cheek, grabbed your things, and ran off as fast as you could without tripping.

And at the mention of dinner again, Camerupt nudged Griselle in the back with her snout.

"Pout all you want, you are still NOT getting second dinner!"

———

she angy lol

———

Grisham knew being inside the Nouveau Café truck as opposed to outside had a few advantages, like being able to stay warmer even when it got cold or windy outside. However, it was certainly easier to reach patrons (or in this case his beloved partner) outside of the truck, he'd have to admit.

Both of those things just so happened to be relevant today, as you (his aforementioned partner) waited outside on one of the benches. Today was a particularly chilly autumn day, with a subtle but ever-present breeze blowing over you, chilling you.

"Can you come down here, Gris? Pleaseeee?" you whined as you pushed out your bottom lip into a pouty expression. You gave him big, sad puppy-dog eyes to hopefully further add your persuasive cuteness.

"And for what reason?" Grisham asked, though he already knew the most likely answer.

"'m cold... I wanna cuddleeee..." you groaned, curling yourself into a ball on the wooden bench to try to retain what little body heat you had left.

"You know I can't do that right now..." Grisham frowned sympathetically over at where you were curled up.

"Not even for just 5 minutes?" you protested sadly, like this was the most unfair thing in the world.

"If I come down there, we both know it will not end up being 'just 5 minutes'," Grisham retorted. And he was right, too; you were not planning to let him go once you'd managed to lure him over. Unfortunately, he saw through you just like the glass he'd just finished washing.

It might've seemed like he was being stern with you, but that was only because if he wasn't he'd never be able to tell you 'no'. Of course he wanted to come down there as much you wanted him to, but no matter how cute or convincing you were he couldn't let you keep him from the work that needed to be done. He tried to hide how much it hurt denying you like this under his usual façade, but that didn't stop Griselle from seeing through it, and having to laugh a little at the sight as she took another order from the window counter.

"But 'm coldddd..." you griped, throwing your head back dramatically to make your point.

"Why don't you go home and wait for me there, then? I'll still be here a while longer..." Grisham suggested, trying to find something else to hold you over.

"But then I'll miss you more, I wanna stay here..." you continued to protest, as you were determined to get him to give in to your pleas.

"Well, how about if Charizard waits with you then? You'll at least be a little warmer," Grisham offered, motioning to his pokemon to stand closer by you. Charizard spread its wings around you, shielding you from most of the cold wind. That and the gentle heat that radiated from the fire type did make you feel less cold, but you still weren't satisfied not having your boyfriend next to you to hold.

"Is that better?" Grisham surveyed, hoping this would hold you over for at least a little while.

"A little, I guess..." you responded, still a noticeable hint of attitude in your voice. Though he couldn't actually see the look on your face anymore over Charizard's wings, Grisham knew you were still pouting.

He was finding it increasingly difficult to deny you, and truly wanted nothing more than to go down there and wrap himself around you into a warm and comforting embrace. And yet, he resisted, though he looked a bit more melancholic than before. Something, again, that Griselle could not resist laughing over.

"Aww, don't look so miserable, Gris," Griselle teased him, hiding a smile. "They're just right there..." she taunted with faux-sympathy.

Her taunting was absolutely not helping him feel any better about any of this, nor was what she did next. It wasn't very busy and there had been a lull in the past few minutes, so unlike Grisham, Griselle didn't have much else to do at the moment.

"Actually..." she began slyly, as a smirk spread across her face, sensing an opportunity to further annoy her co-worker.

"Move over a little. I'm cold too," Griselle ordered as she came over to where you were. Both you and Charizard obliged happily, as the pokemon briefly retracted one of its wings to let her in next to you, and you made room on the bench for her.

"If he won't come down here and sit with you, then I will," Griselle remarked proudly, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You made no effort to protest.

"Thank you sooo much..." You lit up immediately at the gesture as you wrapped your arm around her waist and then nestled your head into the crook of her neck, searching for warmth. She also made no effort to stop you, even as you practically clung to her side.

"Of course," Griselle added smugly. She peered under Charizard's wing to see Grisham's face and he opened his auburn eyes to glare at her disapprovingly. It only made her smirk grow that much wider as she said a single word to him:

"Jealous?"

———

"Please don't go in to work today..." you pleaded with your boyfriend shortly after you'd both woken up to the heavy rain pounding against your bedroom window.

"I'm sorry love, but I have to," Grisham declined in a gentle whisper, pushing a lock of your hair back out of your face and tucking it behind your ear with tender care. You frowned.

"Why don't you ever say yes?" you lamented to him.

"Because if I did, I would never get to work again," Grisham reasoned, and to be fair, he was right. If he were any less resistant to your adorable persuasiveness, he really would never be able be to say 'no' to you.

"That sounds nice... then we could cuddle every morning," you said, trying to subliminally coax him into staying in bed with you just a bit longer.

"Well, the good news is we can already do that," Grisham said as he slid closer than he already was to you, "In fact, it's what we're doing right now..."

"But it's not for long enough... I don't like that you have to leave..." you further complained, your pouting frown growing deeper.

"But if I don't go to work then we won't have money. I have to," Grisham tried reasoning logically with you, though you were still practically half-asleep. He planted an apologetic kiss on your cheek.

"No you don't..." you whined as he sat up, upset at losing his warmth against you.

"I think our bills would disagree, love," Grisham joked as he pulled down the covers, beginning to pull away from you.

"I'll get money somewhere else..." you tried to reassure, though you were absolutely bluffing. You just wanted him to stay with you a bit longer...

"We are not getting a loan from the Rust Syndicate," Grisham struck down the idea before you could even suggest it.

"Okay, but what about–"

"We are not going to Jacinthe either," he interrupted you, knowing what you were probably going to say next, and striking down that idea too.

If he had been able to avoid Jacinthe for this long, then he could avoid the 'temptation' of asking her for a loan. Who knows what she would ask of him, or worse, of you. Grisham would honestly rather deal with the Rust Syndicate, even with his... complicated past with their boss. But neither of them mattered right now. Because he wasn't going to either of them. He was going to go to work.

"But–"

"No. I'm going in to work today, and that is final." Grisham was quickly growing more stern with you, a sign he was finding it harder and harder to say 'no' to you.

"But it's raining... You're gonna get all cold and wet..." You continued your protesting, despite his use of the word, 'final'. You knew you could get him to change his mind if you just kept going a little longer.

"I'll be inside the truck. And I have my raincoat," Grisham reassured you, his tone remaining impeccably even as it always was, despite how much he was internally struggling now.

"But what about Griselle? Won't she be out in the rain?" You thought maybe you could use empathy to convince him.

"She has a raincoat, too. It's going to be alright. Now it's time to get up for breakfast,"

Damn it.

Seeing your usual persuasion tactics failing again, you decide to move to more drastic measures. As Grisham went to free himself from you, you clung on to him tighter, wrapping your arms and legs around him to stop him from getting up. Now that you resembled a Komala clinging onto its precious log, Grisham sighed, briefly ceasing his efforts to pull himself free from you.

"Don't go..." you pleaded to him once again, making the biggest, saddest, eyes you could muster at him.

"Please, let go, love. I have to go make us breakfast," Grisham asked, one hand reassuringly stroking your head, and the other still trying to pry you off, and not having much success in doing so.

"Nuh-uh..." you pouted, acting like a stubborn child, refusing to let go.

"I don't even have to leave just yet. But I do have to leave at some point," he tried to reassure you, "So can you please let go now?"

"Nooooooo... Tell me you'll stay home first."

"And you'll really let go if I do?" Grisham looked at you with an inquisitive expression.

"I'll consider it," you added tentatively.

Grisham seemed to ponder your offer for a minute, or perhaps he was just further scrutinizing your pouting expression, that would undoubtedly disappear as if it never even existed if he'd finally given in to you.

"You have to mean it, too," you further stipulated.

Grisham sighed again. You really weren't letting go. At this point he'd be lucky to even get out of bed today, let alone even get to work. Maybe he could give in just this once, as much as he didn't want to encourage this kind of behavior from you in the future.

The more he thought about it, the more you were unfortunately making sense. The truck really never got many customers when it rained, especially this hard. And there was further consideration of whether it was even worth it to deal with Griselle's inevitable complaining all day, too... He finally decided, after much agonizing, to give in to you, if only to free himself from your unrelenting vise grip.

"Alright, I suppose I can stay home just for today. But this behavior will not work next time," Grisham finally relented to you, with an empty threat and a firm tone that was equally hollow.

"Yaaaay!" you cried out with joy, your despair dissolving like sugar in the rain outside your window, just as he suspected. What he did not expect was you tackling him back into the mattress, crashing back down onto the pillow as you pulled the blankets back over the both of you.

Grisham gave you a disapproving frown and hummed a displeased note.

"Hmm, and I thought you promised to let me go if I said yes... How curious..." he teased.

"I said I'd consider it," you reminded him smugly, your eyes already closed again.

"And I suppose your 'considering' will take another ten minutes or so?" Grisham asked skeptically, though he already knew the answer.

"More like twenty..." you corrected, already half asleep again, and yet still not loosening your grip one bit.

Breakfast could wait another twenty minutes. After all, there was no rush.

———

~ bonus >:3 ~

You received a notification on your own rotom phone shortly after Grisham had used his to notify Griselle that they wouldn't be working today. It was a few texts from her:

"i dont know what you did to get gris to cancel today, and honestly i dont even really care, but whatever it is, keep doing it."

"i did NOT want to go out in that. i'll get you an extra pastry next time as a thanks."

"maybe even two."

"and of course, don't tell him i said any of this to you."

You sent her back a ">:3" emoticon in response.

———

"Okay, okay, I confess, I didn't entirely win the royale by myself. I... I may have skipped just a few of the ranks..." You playfully held your hands up in the air as you made the admission.

You two had just been having another date, a simple night in at your room in Hotel Z. You were already in bed together, cuddled up together, just chatting away, when somehow the topic of the royale— and more specifically how you had managed to do so well at it, came up. You felt more than comfortable telling the truth, and so you did. Quasartico had artificially accelerated your rise through the royale; but they were the ones organizing the whole competition, so it was entirely allowed, it's not like you cheated. They made you prove your worth beforehand; they didn't just give it to you. You just didn't exactly consider what exactly you were saying; nor who you were saying it to.

Grisham's expression dropped from admiration to something deathly serious, "You're not serious, are you? What do you mean you 'skipped ranks'?"

The question burned into you like red hot flames as you could swear you felt your heart stop for a second, and when it restarted you realized the grave mistake you just made.

"No, no, no! N-not like that! I-I didn't cheat, I-I-I made a deal, Quasartico, they—"

"You didn't cheat, you just made a quid pro quo deal with the organizers of the competition for special treatment, I see," Grisham replied with growing ire, like a slowly growing flame threatening to flash out of control. The last time he had been this mad at you, you were in the old Lysandre Café, and you had practically only just met him. The real him, anyways.

Oh gods, you had fucked up. Royally, even. What did you even say now??

"No, Grisham— it's- it's not like that! Let me just explain—" you stammered, trying to get a word in your defense. It wasn't going well. You tried to grab his arm, but he had pulled away from you immediately. That had never happened before...

"There's nothing more for you to explain, I've heard quite enough already," he said, wrenching himself from your grasp like you were something dangerous. It hurt— not physically, but emotionally. He had never gotten this angry at you before.

"I thought I had made my peace with you being the savior of Lumiose and all, but I will not be further entertaining a relationship based on such fraudulence," Grisham declared indignantly, getting back out of bed and beginning to gather his things from the room.

"No! Wait! Grisham, please— where are you going?!" you shouted in protest as he hastily packed away his things in his bag, clearly intending to leave.

"I have elsewhere better to be right now. Not everyone gets to simply cheat their way out of hard work."

"N-no! Please—!" you stammered, but in your scramble to get out of bed yourself and give chase, your leg caught on the sheets, and you only just barely caught yourself and kept your head from hitting the floor as you stumbled.

"Don't go..." you whimpered from the floor, tears welling in your eyes as he turned to give you one last glance from the doorway, cold and piercing.

"Goodbye."

Before you could utter another protest, the door practically slammed shut behind him, making you wince. You tried to get off of the floor, but your legs felt like shaken jelly, and you kept tripping over yourself in your desperate attempt to reach the door.

By the time you reached for the door, and opened it into the hallway, crying incoherent pleas, the elevator's door had already slid shut, and he was as good as gone. You could've taken the stairs, but given how you could barely make it to your door without stumbling over your own feet, you wouldn't make it down the stairs without falling, and certainly not in time to catch him.

You felt gutted as you staggered yourself back to your room, dropping yourself back onto your bed in defeat, and just cried. You were sobbing, and just about everything else short of wailing, as you desperately clutched the pillow from his side of the bed, and found that it still faintly smelled like him—a scent that normally couldn't have been more comforting to you— and you were pretty sure that only made you cry harder.

—

A few minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You assumed it would've been Urbain coming to check on you, presumably after seeing Grisham storm out of the front lobby. But you didn't want to talk about it, or at the very least, not to him of all people right now.

You had only meant to tell him to leave, but you supposed you were more angry— or hurt—than you thought, as you'd ended up shouting across the room instead.

"Go away, Urbain! I don't WANT to talk to you right now!"

Despite your shouting, you heard the door slowly click and open anyways. You had forgotten to lock it again. Someone cautiously poked their head in, but it wasn't Urbain. It was Lida.

"Hey," she greeted quietly from the doorway, not quite able to see you yet.

"Can I come in? I'm not Urbain," she said with a hesitant step over the threshhold. You supposed she always did have a bit of an issue with boundaries, but that was sonething you were kind of grateful for right now actually. She advanced further into the room when you didn't shout or otherwise indicate for her to leave, and found you in bed, red-eyed from crying and clutching a pillow to yourself.

"Hey, are you okay? I was just sitting in the lobby after practice and I saw Grisham leaving. He looked like, really mad..."

"Do I look okay to you?" you retorted, gesturing vaguely to yourself.

"Okay, that one's on me for asking..." Lida muttered at your response, "What happened? Did you guys fight or something?"

You nodded as more tears rolled down your face. You just couldn't bear to say 'yes'. You still didn't want to admit it happened.  Lida sat beside you on your bed, seeing the tissue box and the few crumpled tissues scattered around it already.

"...What did you guys fight about?" she asked after a long silence.

"He got mad about how I got that stupid special royale promotion from Quasartico, and then he just left," you explained bitterly between sniffles, your voice still shaky from being upset.

"The one you got from battling Vinnie?"

"Yeah. He barely even said anything to me. He just suddenly got out of bed and left when I told him. He wouldn't even let me explain."

"Oh..."

"I wish hadn't taken that STUPID deal!" you shouted suddenly, slamming a balled fist into the pillow still in your lap. Lida startled slightly at your outburst.

"Uh, what did he say?"

She knew it might not have been the best thing to ask, but she still needed more context.

"Something like I wasn't worthy of being the winner of the royale since I just got to 'cheat' at it or whatever," you paraphrased your explanation.

"But you didn't cheat. You won all of your promotion matches, right? And you saved the city," she reasoned.

"I did, but I skipped all those ranks, don't you remember? That's what he's mad about."

"Okay... I could see how that might sound bad... But still, you got that deal because you were already helping with the rogue megas, and you did beat Vinnie fair and square for it, so they hardly just gave it to you," Lida pondered aloud.

"That's what he seems to think though, he wouldn't let me explain before he stormed off, and I tried to explain!"

You supposed you weren't the best at explaining things, but you had regretted every word you had said since you had uttered them, and you wanted nothing but to be able to take them back.

"I'm sorry... do you maybe want, like, a hug? Some tea, maybe?" Lida consoled somewhat awkwardly, still trying her best to help.

You nodded again.

"Hug would be nice..." you mumbled with a teary-eyed sniffle.

She embraced you, and you felt the warm, soft material of her oversized hoodie wrap around you. You definitely needed that.

"Do you think he's ever gonna forgive me, Lida?" you asked, with your head still on her shoulder, "I've never seen him get so mad before..."

"To be honest, neither have I..." Lida admitted nervously after the two of you broke apart again, "But I'm sure he'll still get over it!" she rushed to correct herself.

"And, uh, if he doesn't, I'll find another café to get my snacks from. Even though their croissants are really, really good..." She offered, trailing off after realising she'd gotten side-tracked talking about food again.

"Th-thanks, Lida," you said with half of a laugh. It was a sweet thing for her to offer. You did start to feel a little bit better.

"Maybe you can still go there tommorrow and try to explain? It's not like he could just leave in the middle of the day. Maybe he'll listen better if you give him a night to think about it."

"Maybe, I'll try that when I go for breakfast tommorrow..."

You thought about giving him more time than that, but the pain of being away from him— no, the pain of knowing he no longer loved you, was killing you as it is. You could always just leave if things got too awkward.

"Oh yea, did you want tea? I can still make you some if you want," Lida added with that cute, awkward smile she had.

"I'd like that..."

—

Coming up to the truck the next morning, apology already written on your face, you knew you were in for it, especially if Grisham had ended up telling Griselle. You felt your insides squeeze in anticipation as you came into her view, but your jaw unclenched slightly when she did not immediately react negatively to you.

Griselle had that fake cheery customer-service smile plastered on her face, until she took in your sorry expression for a moment, and looked more sympathetic than you expected. Maybe Grisham hadn't told her? That's what you hoped, though it was a slim chance. They were close and they lived together, it was very likely she knew.

"Hey, you doing okay? What's with that look?" Griselle asked as she came over to where you had sat down, all gloomy looking.

Your jaw clenched again. What were you supposed to say to her? Not the truth. You didn't want to lie to her, but if sweet, patient Grisham had been that mad at you last night, you couldn't imagine how irate Griselle would be at the same information, given she would absolutely take his side over yours.

"Uh, nothing. It's nothing. I'll just have my usual," you replied, trying to change the subject.

"Sure, but first you have to tell me what's actually wrong. You're not a very good liar, you know."

Aaand you were caught. Immediately. You should've known. From what you had seen, nothing got past her. You suspected the only person better at finding out secrets in the whole city was Emma, and that's just because she did it for a job.

"I'm not lying," you lied, "It's, uh, not important..."

"Oh, come on, give it up already. I'm not gonna judge," Griselle coaxed, trying to goad an answer out of you. And now you knew she was lying too. She would absolutely judge. She loved judging. She would not pass up a prime opportunity to judge you like this, if being around her on her breaks were any indication; nearly all the two of you would do is judge people.

"If I'm a liar, then you're a hypocrite. You would totally judge."

"Okay, fine. You got me, I would," the waitress replied, faking surrender, "Now I told you my thing, now you tell me yours," she said with a facetious grin.

"That's not how this works!" you protested indignantly.

"Sure it is, now tell me what it is or we're both gonna be here all day.

"FINE, I will," you finally conceded, "Just a little argument we got into last night... Nothing serious."

"Is THAT why he's acting so weird and moody? Ugh, you've got to give me a heads-up on this kind of thing next time. He's enough for me to put up with in the morning already, you do not want to know what it's like dealing with him when he's all mopey on top of it. And he won't even tell me what's wrong this time either!" Griselle vented, ignoring the fact that she was probably still within earshot of her co-worker while she complained about him.

You clammed up. It seemed like she really didn't know what was going on, Grisham hadn't told her for some reason, in fact he was actively keeping it from her it seemed, and you didn't want it to fall out of your big mouth again either.

Looking at the way your expression shifted nervously and how you didn't say anything further, Griselle was only further annoyed and confused.

"Now you're being weird! What happened between you two?? Was this something I did?? It's really starting to feel personal, you know!" Griselle ranted with disbelief.

You stayed silent. You couldn't even look at her anymore. Guilt stirred inside of you. Now you were making her feel bad about the whole thing

"Fine, don't tell me," she conceded, "But don't think I'm not coming back to this later, though," she added with an accusatory finger pointed at you as she finally went off to the next waiting table.

You waited in silence for your drink, and when it was ready, Griselle brought it to you, and that stung a little bit extra. Not because of anything she did (though she made it clear she was not done hounding you for answers), but because unless he was truly incredibly busy, Grisham had always made a point to at least give you your order personally since you'd been close. Sometimes he'd take a short break to sit with you, too. But right now it was quiet, and yet Grisham hadn't even spoken a word to you, or done as little as spare you a glance.

"You must have fucked up bad if he's actually having me give this to you..." Griselle commented as she handed off your drink.

"Which only makes me want to know what you did more, actually..." She added curiously, hoping she could still manage to pull an answer out of you.

"Why does it have to be something I did?" you replied, half joking, half defensive.

"Was it something he did?" she inquired suspiciously, eager for new information.

"No..."

"B-but it's not entirely my fault! I didn't know he'd be so mad..." you stuttered, trying to defend yourself without exposing the issue too much.

"Whatever you did, fix it soon, I cannot deal with this for a week. If I have to, it's going to end in my hands around one or both of your throats," Griselle threatened as she turned to leave, orange twintails flying behind her.

She would make 'playful' threats often, or, more often than the average person would, but you thought this might've been the time she was serious. As much as you almost wanted to see her try, you thought maybe it'd be best not to test her further. At least until things had gotten better with Grisham.

Your drink was fine. Grisham wasn't the type to be petty enough as to compromise his work for it, mad as he was at you. He was a professional. Still, though you knew your drink wouldn't be compromised, there was something about it that felt different. When you peeked inside your drink, there was no little creamer heart waiting for you, and that was almost worse. On top of that, he still hadn't looked in your direction once.

—

You had left the café shortly after finishing you drink in cold silence, and returned around sunset, just before closing. Grisham was gone from the truck's window, presumably around back where the crates of extra supplies were kept. And hesitantly, you went back there as well, where you found him with a crate in his arms.

He gave you the slightest glance, and you saw the tiniest angry quirk in his brow, a small crack in his façade. He glared at you with one auburn eye, sharp and burning into you.

"What?" he asked bluntly.

"I want to talk," you answered simply.

"I've nothing to say to you," Grisham replied, with a tone just as bitter as the coffee he brewed, before returning to what he was doing without a second thought.

"At least let me explain before you get mad this time? Please?"

"I believe my anger is more than justified. I've earned it, but I could see how you couldn't understand something like that. Apologies," he said, purposefully in the least apologetic tone possible.

"I know you're mad..."

"I am," Grisham interjected, with his arms crossed as he had set down the crate.

"A-and you're right. You deserve to be mad at me. I don't expect you to forgive me right this second, either." You swallowed hard as you felt your confidence waver, hoping you could force it back down inside of you.

"I don't currently see myself forgiving you, at all," he rebutted, now fully glaring daggers at you.

"And you don't even have to! But please, let me explain, Grisham? Please?"

"And what if I don't care to hear whatever it is you have to say?" Grisham inquired, his gaze somehow both burning and cold at the same time.

"Please."

You came up from behind him, and wrapped your arms around him. You remembered doing that, and how he would smile at you when you did, with his eyes so full of love. Now they were only full of just-tempered flames.

"Release me, please," he asked, mildly vexxed.

"I'll let go when you hear me out," you answered in an equally serious tone.

Grisham sighed with displeasure. He was not happy with you in general, much less you practically taking him hostage, but a tiny part of him had felt guilty for being so mad and leaving you like he had. The decent thing to do was to at least hear you out. Even if he wouldn't end up forgiving you.

"Fine. But make your pleas quick, would you? I'm not looking to receive another earful from Griselle about being late closing again."

"I wasn't just given my promotion. I worked for it too," you explained, a pleading hopeful look still in your eyes.

"You worked for it? Oh, don't make me laugh. If that's even true, I'm sure that friend of yours still helped you in getting it plenty. The one who became their new CEO?" Grisham scoffed, arms crossed and eyes narrowed with scrutiny.

"How many nights did you have completely devoid of sleep, battling until sunrise?" he questioned, thinking you'd have no answer to that.

"Many," you answered sincerely, though you could tell from the way he scoffed at you he didn't believe you for a second.

"And I'm sure you just worked so hard during the day too, with all that leisurely running around the city with your friends?" Grisham guessed with a painfully sarcastic expression.

"And doing Mable's research, getting chased down by alphas, and stopping all the kaiju sized killing machines that were the rogue megas..." you corrected, matching his tone.

"Well I'm sure—" Grisham attempted to interject again, but you were not having it anymore. You were getting nowhere, and he still wasn't listening. That was fine though, you would just MAKE him listen instead.

"No. You are going to LET ME TALK, and you are going to LISTEN," you hissed at him, "Now SIT," you commanded him like an unruly pokemon, and suprisingly, he listened, sitting down politely on one of the larger crates. He seemed shocked at your outburst; like he didn't expect that kind of thing from you, but you were just getting started.

"Have YOU been nearly frozen to death by a raging mega Froslass' hyper blizzard?" you began your tirade, "Or swarmed by a giant super-powered super-angry beedrill and all of its angriest friends looking to pump you full of venom??" you continued indignantly, as your captive audience of one could only listen, "What about a Banette the size of a small building and its seven shadow clones who's sole objective is separating your soul from your body?! Have you ever dealt with THAT before??"

It almost looked like he was going to open his mouth and say something again, but, if he was, you beat him to it.

"I'm not SAYING you haven't worked hard. But don't pretend like I just had everything handed to me for being special!" And just when it seemed like your rant was finally over, it wasn't.

"I mean, I don't even LIVE here! I live in a hotel room out of a travel bag and got dragged into this city's zubat-shit insane problems just for SHOWING UP here!" you raved, gesturing wildly.

"And if you're still SO mad about this, then take it up with Quasartico. Ask THEM why they promoted me in THEIR competition," you finally finished your rant with a huff.

You had sort of forgotten that the whole point of this confrontation was supposed to be begging him to take you back, and you realized you might have gone a little overboard as you caught your breath... Maybe that was just a little stronger than you'd meant to come off.

"Alright. I think you've made your point. Are you finished with your shouting?"

Although his words were about as cold as they'd been all night, you could detect a slight shift in Grisham's tone. It was just a bit more of the caring, loving voice you missed so much. Perhaps it was concern. You really had just shouted a lot.

"Yes..." you responded meekly, hoping you had not just made more of an idiot of yourself to your potential boyfriend, again.

"Sorry... little carried away I guess..."

"Well, your argument certainly wasn't lacking in passion..."

Your clear passion—and yes, the way you shouted— reminded him of Griselle. He was actually very glad she was not a part of this right now.

You were waiting for the soul-crushing yet inevitable 'but': a million reasons why he would never forgive you, how you still weren't worthy to be called winner of the royale or zygarde's champion, how your suffering was still nothing compared to his; but oddly, it never came.

"I suppose if my mission for Team Flare Nouveau and myself is to become better and move on from the past..." he paused, almost as if he was trying to contain a smile, "Then I have no other choice but to forgive you, do I?"

That was good enough for you.

"No, you don't, and you're stuck with me forever now," you joked with a sly smile as you reattached yourself to his side like you were a joltik and he was a 9-volt-battery, nuzzling him affectionately.

He really couldn't stay mad at you if you were going to be that cute. It was precious, really, how much you loved him even when he'd done what he had to you.

"Well, in that case," Grisham leaned in and kissed you right on the tip of your nose, then your cheek, then the other, just as tenderly as you remember, "You're forgiven, my love. I'm sorry." He picked up your hand, and gave it a tender kiss as well, "For everything. Can you forgive me for what I've done?"

"I can. I'm sorry too. I should've told you sooner and I explained it badly..." you took your turn apologizing, giving him a tight squeeze. It had been barely a day without him, and yet it was practically unbearable. That just showed how much you needed him.

It was only a few moments later as you were both mid-making-up-making-out that Griselle happened to walk around back of the truck, presumably looking for her colleague.

"Oh my GOD, I thought you two were still fighting, GROSS!" she whined dramatically as she raced to avert her eyes from the sight. You supposed you missed that too.

You'd pulled away when you heard her loud protests, and looked at her smugly from where you were, currently laid across Grisham's lap.

"Now that you're both done being disgusting and clearly done fighting, am I allowed to know what it was about?"

There was a silence.

"About that..."

"Uhhhh..."

You exchanged a worried look with Grisham. You both silently agreed it was best she not learn about this now.

"No," you answered her in unison.

"I should be getting compensated just for how much I have to watch the two of you kiss, the LEAST you could is tell me whatever stupid thing you fought over," Griselle reasoned, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Why don't we all go home for dinner? I'll make both of your favorites," Grisham countered, changing the subject. You'd forgotten you'd run out just before dinner at the hotel, and now your were practically starving.

"Can we cuddle after dinner?" you piped up from Grisham's lap, your eyes just as big and sparkling as he remembered.

"Of course we can."

"No being gross until AFTER I'm done eating!" Griselle added, wanting to at least be able to enjoy her dinner in peace.

"Mm, no promises," you countered smugly, as you leaned up to give Grisham one more kiss one the cheek.

———

this idea fell out of my brain while rattling around the empty interior of it so i hope it's good. i didn't spend 6 hours writing it without taking a break shhhh hyperfocus mode does what it wants

but this fic has all my favorite things: soul crushing angst, griselle disgusted at your gross romance, and kissies. lots of kissies. <3

no idea when it'll get posted because im wildly inconsistent but I'm also working on my first fic with my oc and it is whump (aka i make her suffer for my entertainment) (she gets taken care of afterwards iss okay)

—

Rhythmic steps rang out against the pavement as you and Grisham walked down the street together, perfectly content, holding hands. You were having such a good day, with the early evening sun warm on your shoulders as you walked with your beloved.

Well, you were having a good day. It was good right up until you both passed by a man who was standing and talking with a few other people, who gave you a strange look; then you heard him mumble something as you passed. You only heard fragments of what he said, but you just couldn't shake the feeling it was about you.

"You really think... her... someone like him?"  you could make out parts of a whispered question over your shoulder. You gave a small suspicious glance back, but didn't end up saying anything, since you couldn't be sure if it really was about you or not.

You looked over to see Grisham suddenly looking uneasy, and as you round the corner you feel his grip on your hand loosen and then he lets your hand go completely. He drifts a bit further from your side, creating space between you. You intially think nothing of it as you shift yourself back over to him, and reach for his hand to hold yours again.

But you grow confused when you don't feel his hand grab yours again. He doesn't shift away from you again, but even after you not-so-subtley brush his hand with yours, silently urging him to take it again, he won't.

That was odd, Grisham never did much to publically display his love for you when you were out, (in stark comparison to his demeanor when you were alone together) but he would at least hold your hand when you walked together.

Grisham didn't even look back at you when you did, as he seemed to be lost in worried thought. You tilt your head and hum a confused note to him, wondering what's wrong, but he doesn't say anything in response; just sighing a little and frowning, turning subtley away from your gaze.

Now you know something is up, but you don't press the issue any further right now. You were almost home anyways. Grisham remained walking side by side with you for the rest of your walk home, but he remained distant— cold, even— very much unlike him normally. Only the sparse noise of the quiet city street hung between you now.

You still didn't say anything, but now you were upset. Everything had been going so well all day, why did it seem like he was suddenly upset with you? Maybe you had done something? You began to look concerned yourself, retreating into your own mind to think of what could possibly be going on. And then you remembered: things like this had been happening recently, even if you had brushed them off previously. Grisham had been acting with this strange coldness in public, and it hurt whenever you noticed it; knowing what you were missing out on.

Then, as you were practically mid-thought, you were hit with a wave of cognitive dissonance. You both entered his apartment, and he seemingly went back to his calm and caring self as soon as the door shut behind you. Without so much as acknowledging whatever that whole thing was about.

He gave you a warm, loving smile and a soft kiss on your forehead as he took your jacket off of you, hanging it next to his own. Like normal. Like nothing had happened. Now you were totally confused. You were getting mixed signals. Was he upset with you or not?

———