#gladimoon

Two sharp words, hissed through his teeth. Unease flopped in Moon's stomach and she cursed her luck. Of all the rooms in the motel for her to stumble into, it had to be his.

"You're seriously going to send me back out there-"

"Get out." Louder this time. Firmer and harsher, his eyes narrowing and cutting through her protest.

Moon threw her hands up. "Fine, fine." She turned on the spot and opened the door. "I'll guess I'll take my chances with the storm-"

The door swung shut in her face. She jumped, recoiling from the burst of noise, and glanced at Gladion. She blinked at him a few times as he ran a hand down his face in resignation.

"Fine," he huffed, turning away from her and sitting on the edge of the bed. "But only until the rain stops."

Moon bit down her vindicated grin, and grabbed the chair by the desk, sitting on it with her legs crossed. She mussed her hair, sending a spray of water to the floor. The cramped room was cozy and warm, and she let out a delighted sigh.

"Hey, can I borrow a-"

Moon was hit in the face with a towel before she could finish her question.

"There. Now stop spraying water everywhere. You're not a Rockruff."

Moon huffed but happily accepted the towel, and used it to dry herself off in silence. She snuck glances at Gladion as she fluffed the towel over her hair, finding him studying something on his phone. The light flickered as the wind surged around the motel. Moon glanced up at it as she patted her face with the towel.

"I wonder if we're going to lose power," she mused aloud.

Gladion didn't even blink and Moon wasn't sure what she'd expected. He didn't seem like the type for conversation in the first place, but the empty air between them made her nervous. She eased off her shoes, setting them carefully by the door so she didn't dirty the carpet any further, and slumped into her chair. The raging storm outside didn't seem like it was going to let up any time soon.

Not wanting to drain the remaining battery from her phone, Moon studied the room instead. It wasn't long until she regretted that, after noticing multiple suspiciously coloured stains on the floor and wall, and speckles of mold in the corner, and she decided to turn her attention to Gladion. He was still focused deeply on his phone, a slight furrow on his brow. His shoes were worn and scuffed, the laces frayed. His hoodie, black like the night, was littered with holes.

Moon's heart clenched, unable to ignore the awkward distance between them. She thought to her new, shiny sunglasses in her brand-new bag, the money she'd spent on a whole new look just hours earlier, and instantly felt selfish and frivolous. She turned to the dresser beside her and pulled open the drawers. It wasn't long until she found what she'd been looking for.

"Gladion."

His eyes shifted over to her, expression uninterested. She held up the small sewing kit.

"I can patch up those holes for you," she said, giving the sewing kit a shake. The needles rattled.

He looked back at his phone. "No, thanks."

"Come on. It's no big deal, it won't take me long."

"I said, no."

"Gladion."

"No."

"Why not? Don't trust my skills? I'll have you know, I've had to sew dozens of holes left by my mum's Meowth over the years!"

He didn't say anything this time.

"Gladion," she drew his name out, accentuating every syllable.

He huffed. "Why do you even care? It's none of your business. I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity," Moon scoffed. "It's my way of repaying you for letting me shelter here during the storm, that's all."

Their eyes met in silence, Moon pouting defiantly. She felt fixed beneath his gaze. Studied, as though he was trying to read her motives, her honesty.

She hadn't lied. Not completely, anyway. Sure, a part of her felt bad, but it wasn't because she felt sorry for him or anything. She felt bad because she realised just how much she didn't know about him. How different they were. That, even though he was a part of Team Skull, he was here, in a motel, alone.

If all she could do was sew up his jacket, then it would have to do.

Gladion sighed. "Fine. Do what you want." He pulled his hoodie over his head and tossed it at Moon. She caught it with a grin.

"You won't regret this, I promise!"

He didn't reply, but she expected as much, and quickly got to work. She picked out a black thread that matched the hoodie, and started with the largest hole near the elbow. It was long and narrow, the edges torn and frayed. It didn't take a genius to figure out what could cause a hole like that. Moon bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from asking how it happened. Or if he had a wound to match.

The rest of the holes were the same. Moon pressed her lips tightly together and focused on her stitches. She dusted her thumb over a neatly patched hole, before feeling Gladion's eyes on her.

"You're not going to ask?"

She couldn't bring herself to look up, to meet his eyes. Her fingers trembled around the needle and she tightened her grip, exhaling deeply.

"It's none of my business," she said, echoing his neutral tone.

"Is that what you really think?"

She stopped. Her eyes fell on the large gash over the front of the hoodie, patched misshapenly long ago.

"No," she admitted. "But I know you don't want me to pry, so I won't. I just… hope you know what you're doing."

A quiet beat passed.

"So do I," Gladion replied quietly.