Somewhere down the line Cynthia came under the impression that Brendan was a bit of a player, truth or not she has a silent sort of respect for that - provided no harm comes to a certain few...
The two have actually spent a fair few evenings together, most notable are the weekends spent at Steven Stones villa.
Cynthia can never remember his age, she’s almost certain he’s older than he actually is. At league socials she always tries to offer him champagne and has to be corrected. The highest she guessed his age at was 24, much to his distaste.
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He’s a god on the ice. Every axel, lutz, loop, every flip and Salchow (a quad, no less!), executed with utmost precision and perfection. The rest of the crowd stare in awe as he spins effortlessly on the ice.
Watch out!
As he spins wildly out of control, reality breaks from the canvas of dreams. A hand catches his back and his head tilts backward. His face is flushed and his breathing, uneven.
Are you alright? The voice asks, the warmness of breath tickling his face.
I-I’m fine, he replies.
Good, the voice responds and he can feel the hand slide off his back as he straightens and -
Oh?
Needs better timing, but I’m sure you’ll be ok!
He’s floored.
It’s him.
Wait!
Hmm?
He proffers his hand and The Drifters begin playing overhead.
“Wait, so you’re best friends with the Sinnoh League Champion?” Morty asked as soon as Cynthia was out of ear shot. Riley merely groaned out loud and hid his burning face within the folds of his arms.
“It’s not as cool as you think. She might present herself like a Champion in front of the public but when it’s just the two of us… you learn a lot of things.” His words were muffled but he did get his despair across. Maybe. Riley would never badmouthed Cynthia to someone else but he would complain about her to anyone who was willing to listen.
“I see…” Morty replied, a quizzical look on his face. It made him wonder just how she was actually like if it reduced Riley to such a state. There seemed to be some sort of agenda just now, when she requested a kiss from Riley. Still, he supposed it was none of his business. His companion didn’t seem too keen on talking more on it so he won’t push him.
While Riley continued to try and make himself sink into the table, Morty noticed a familiar shade of blue breaking away from the crowd that filled the area. The surprise on his face quickly changed into happiness upon realizing that yes, it was Falkner that was approaching their booth. It really has been a while since their last meeting, now that he thought about it.
“Hey Falkner! Fancy meeting you here,” Morty greeted him with a warm smile, standing up to briefly pull him into a one armed hug. “How are you doing?”
Falkner responded with a soft smile of his own. Morty noticed his gaze kept flicking to the money jar and put two and two together.
“You want to donate? It’s one dollar a kiss. You can choose between the two of us but I don’t think he’s ready to function just yet.”
“No, it’s fine. I just...” Falkner trailed off, instead slipping out a dollar from his pocket and placing it in the jar. He then turned to face Morty, a light dusting of red on his cheeks. It was easy to tell who his choice was.
“Alright then...” Morty smiled warmly at him as he placed a hand on his shoulder. He then bent down till he was eye level, leaned so close that their noses were practically touching before he placed a soft, tender kiss on Falkner’s lips. It was different from the rest. Morty was the most familiar with him so he felt the most comfortable kissing him. This wasn’t any different from the bouts of gentle affection that they shared. Though when it came to kisses, it was usually forehead or cheek kisses.
This kiss... it was very nice. It lasted only for a few seconds and yet when he pulled back, he felt warm and fuzzy inside. Morty once again gave Falkner a kiss, this time on the forehead, hoping that it radiated with his love for his best friend.
“Thank you very much for your donation. I really appreciate it. Happy holidays to you, Falkner....”
She’s hesitant about it, at first, since she’s not quite sure where their boundaries are laid out. The first time, it’s Brendan who reaches for her hand, before flinching back when their fingers touch. Dawn takes that as her cue to reach back for him--he’s unsure, at first, so she always has to give him a reassuring squeeze, before he relaxes and squeezes back. His hands are always warmer than hers.
♢: How they share a bed with your muse
Without a second thought, the first time it happens. Brendan wakes up in a panicked frenzy, and Dawn has to hold him to calm him down. He looks a little lost when she tries to get up to let him sleep, so she offers to stay with him for the night. Though she looks to the opposite side, he usually ends up holding her from behind--Brendan managed to somehow sleep a little more soundly that night.
☆: What they miss about your muse when they're apart
Genuinely, Dawn actually misses getting to hear Brendan talk--she likes how excited he gets about certain things, and she usually pretty interested in the new stuff he tends to get on the subject of. She thinks he can light up a room sometimes--she misses how warm his presence usually is.
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11. the one where soulmates share extreme physical sensation — if one gets hurt, the other gets hurt, and etc.
The doctor says he’s in peak physical health, which honestly confuses him.
“Are you sure?” Morty asks, a hand gently pressing against his stomach. Even though all sorts of tests has been conducted, there’s no evidence to show that he’s contracted some sort of illness. No tumor. No tears. Nothing. The doctor shows him the scan, the results, everything. Nothing.
But Morty is sure that there is something. It’s the only explanation as to why his stomach hurts. It hits him randomly, the pangs that is. Sometimes, it’s manageable, like the feeling he gets if he forgoes a couple of meals until his stomach is all but growling for food. Other times, it gets painful to the point that he could do nothing but curl up into the tightest ball possible, silently wishing for the pain to end.
It’s been happening for a few months now until he concedes and goes to the dreaded hospital. He thinks he’s going to get an answer finally but it proves to be futile.
“Yes, I’m very sure. You’re very healthy for a young man your age.”
“How could this be?” Morty whispers, more to himself than the doctor. “I know that my stomach hurts. It’s even starting to affect my everyday life.” He turns despondent amethyst eyes to the aged physician. “What should I do?”
“Hmm...” The doctor taps his pen against the clipboard in hand, browns pinching in thought. “Well, the only other explanation that I have... it’s not medical related but... maybe it’s happening to someone else.”
Morty stares at the man like he grew a second head. “Come again?”
“Have you heard about soulmates?” At the hesitant nod, the doctor continued. “It’s a bit rare and I’ve only seen it happen to a handful of people throughout my career but... it would certainly give an explanation to your... ailment.”
“Could you please explain more?” Morty asks a bit desperately. Finally, he’s getting an answer to his mysterious condition.
“You see, there are cases where you share a deep connection with your soulmate. So much so that whatever they feel in an extreme manner, you would feel the same. It seems to me that whoever your soulmate is, they’re afflicted with some sort of stomach problem. The feeling is transmitted to you, hoping that you’d feel sympathetic and grow closer to your soulmate as you would understand the pain they’re going through.”
Morty sits in silence as his brain tries to absorb all of the information. So, all this time, the pain is caused by his soulmate? One that he still has yet to meet? That revelation should have sparked some sort of anger within him for all of the inconvenience it’s causing him but all he felt is... sympathy. Somewhere out there, his soulmate is suffering and he’s not there to help them.
“I... thank you doctor, for all you’ve done,” he replies in the end, voice a bit hollow. It’s not long before he’s out of the hospital, looking a little dazed. All this time, he has a soulmate, one that’s going through a lot of pain. Morty has heard of soulmates and always wished he would find his one day. To think, this is the answer to his silent question...
Well, now that it’s confirmed, all that’s left is to find them, eh? That’s the only way to get the pain to stop. This time, when he feels a sharp pang in his stomach, Morty merely grimaces, lips twisting up in a half smile. His soulmate is in pain and he’s going to find them.
Somewhere across town, inside a bedroom with the curtains drawn, lies a shivering ball of a young man with blue hair, his arms wrapped around his stomach. It’s always like this when he slips up just a tiny bit. Still, for some odd reason, his heart feels... warm. It’s not because of his illness and his current situation. It’s something else, something that’s far and yet so near... It’s inconceivable but he still manages to crack a tiny, genuine smile through the pain.
