#shaundelure

#71: “You’re warm.”

Dennis had a habit of not learning from his first mistakes. He also had a habit of getting carried away. In this case, it was him ignoring the fact that the harsh cold of the winter was ruthless and had no mercy. He had stayed out with his brothers playing in the snow (Yes, grown men playing out in the snow. It was fun. Do not judge.) for a couple hours, forgetting that he probably should have had more than one layer on him while they were throwing snowballs at one another.

Shauntal had chided him for not wearing anything more than a jacket, scarf, jeans, and boots. He had responded with another snowball and a laugh.

Skip to a day later, and Shauntal was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Her expression basically radiated “I told you so”, complete with a haughty little laugh. He knew she was only justified in this look, but still… He couldn’t help but pout underneath the blankets that he’d covered himself in, mumbling to himself about how yes, she was right, he should have put more clothes on.

Achoo!

Ugh… Being sick was the worst.

Then she began her “I was right all along” speech, causing his pout to become more prominent and his eyebrows to knit. He looked quite a bit like a puppy that was being scolded, not saying much at all but instead shrinking back into the couch. After a moment longer of her talking, however, Dennis reached over towards her and enveloped her in the sheets with him, pulling her to his chest (much to her distress, considering she didn’t want to get sick too).

“Stop squirmin’, please…?” The biker hugged her close, resting his head onto the crook of her neck and rubbing his cheek up against the fabric of the hoodie she wore. “Hey… That’s my jacket, ain’t it?”

She stopped throwing her little fit and looked up at him just for one second before she diverted her gaze, trying to come up with some excuse as to why she picked it up. He only chuckled over at her, squeezing her close and kissing her cheek.

“I think it’s cute on ya… I like it lots when ya wear my stuff.” He spoke much too close to her ear. “It’s always way too big on ya, n’ it makes ya cuter than ya usually are, baby… Maybe I should get sick more often, huh? Then I can keep ya all ta myself like this, haha…”

[✎ ]   This was it; the moment had finally arrived.

The man had dreamed of this moment, many a night; never did he once consider that this far cry of a wish would ever be fulfilled. His heart was racing faster than it had in a long while, palms beginning to dampen the book his grip held. A Shauntal masterpiece, it was...to have it signed would be one of the most incredible experiences in his life.

Here it is; the next in line was none other than himself. Don’t shake, don’t fret; she’s just another human being. With a gentle step, he gradually made his way to the signing booth; and there she was.

↘ for yours to accidentally purposely make mine trip on the stairs

It was probably because she insulted the woman’s horrible outfit.

And I mean, really—how was she wrong when the bow-thing around her neck was this gigantic ugly thing?  What was it, some kind of cat head?  Talk about tacky.  Those were the first things she’d said to Shauntal when her cousin introduced them during their trip to Unova.  And of course the woman was offended, and of course Lance scolded her right then and there.

They’d left soon after, Shauntal never again looking Clair in the eyes.  She’d looked everywhere else, refused to give her even the slightest bit of attention.  Not that Clair minded; these Unovians were more uptight than Sebastian, their clan’s deputy.

They met again two days later, on the cracked stone steps of their region’s Victory Road.  Clair was eager to find a Deino, and on her way to the mountain’s depths.  Shauntal was on her way up, nose buried in her book as soon as she saw Clair.

But then the unthinkable happened.

One moment Clair was speeding down the stairs, and the next she was hurtling down them, faceplanting against a step and rolling down them at breakneck speed.  She landed in a heap on the rocky road below.

The pain of a tender jaw and sore limbs hindered her anger.  Dazed and confused, Clair looked back up the stairs to the place where she once was.  Shauntal stood, horrified, staring back down at her.  That woman tripped her!  Clair snarled but her head pounded too much.  Shauntal was nowhere to be seen when she came to her senses.

Yes, your semi did end yesterday!  However, considering your circumstances, I will grant that extra week to your hiatus.  Please use this time to work extra hard on your research paper and make sure everything is perfect before you send it in.  Make sure you get plenty of rest and proper breaks, too!  We’ll see you back on March 23rd!

There’s no need to be so hard on yourself, my friend!  Please, take as much time as you need to take care of all those big, scary deadlines.  I’ve got Shauntal on a hiatus until March 15th, so hopefully that gives you enough time to do everything you need!  I’ve got your back, so you can rest easy.  See you then!

“My favorite things about them, huh …?” Caitlin fell silent as she considered the question.

“I admire Shauntal’s creative mind. Being an author must be difficult as it is. To be able to come up with as many unique and interesting plots as she does, without making them seem cliche and over used, seems to be a project in itself. I’ve seen her spend countless hours hovering over her journal, trying to come put with a new idea or different ways to develop her characters further. Her devotion to her writing is phenomenal.”

“As for Marshal, I find his outgoing personality to be refreshing. His ability to speak his mind is noteworthy, and I appreciate how honest he is. It’s hard to question someone as open as him. When I’m in doubt, I often look to him for guidance. He has a straightforward view on life, and a clear sense of right and wrong.”

“C’mon, Mary, give me a smile,” prodded DJ Ben, playfully sticking his fork at her.  He speared a meatball and tried to feed it to her, but Mary shook her head.

“I just can’t help but feel as if something’s wrong,” she replied, her voice earnest.  She looked down and crumpled the napkin on her lap.  Ever since her borrowed pudgy Pidgey left on their mission—Dasher and Dancer and Comet and Cupid… even Blitzen—an overwhelming feeling of dread came over her.  DJ Mary glanced back up at her date, who stared at her curiously.

“Well, I mean—if something went wrong, it’s certainly not your fault. Those Pidgey are professionals, like us. They know what they’re doing.” Ben smiled and plopped the meatball in his mouth, moaning with pleasure.  After he swallowed, Ben leaned back in his chair and held his stomach.  “Oh, god!  I forgot how good these were!  Are you going to eat that—?”

Mary used her utensil to swat Ben’s creeping fork away.  He laughed and focused on his own plate.  She stuck out her tongue at him and finally ate a bite out of her spaghetti.  Ben was right, this is marvelous!  But was he also right about the Pidgey?  Had they even made an around-the-world trip like this before?

…What if the wind carried them off-course?  What if one of them was seriously injured?!

“Mary.  Mary!”

DJ Mary snapped to attention, realizing that she was breathing exceptionally hard.  The hand holding her fork was shaking.  Ben was kneeling by her side, wetting his napkin in his water.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, gently resting her hand on the table.  He then dabbed the damp napkin on her forehead and on the back of her neck.

“I’m f-fine.  Really,” Mary forced a laugh.  Ben grunted and went back to his chair when she insisted she was all right.  They spent the next several minutes in silence, Ben watching her like a Braviary.  Under his watchful gaze, Mary reluctantly ate the rest of her meal.

When she was done, Ben checked his watch.  “We should head back to the office,” he said, moving to help her out of her seat.  “It’s nearly time for your big announcement.  I’ll even hold your microphone—for moral support.”

Back inside DJ Mary’s booth, Mary sat at her chair while Ben completed the rest of the preparations.  With a wink and his signature smile, DJ Ben closed his eyes, clapped his hand over his face, and pointed at the list of participants entered into the raffle.  He held up a finger to Mary and counted, “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe.  Catch a Persian by the toe.  If he hollers, let him go… my mother… said to… pick the very best one… and you… are… not… IT!”

Ben did this three more times until all of the winners had been chosen.  “Here you go, Mare,” he said with a grin, handing her the names.

Mary couldn’t believe what she just witnessed. Well… she could.  She really could.  “Thank you, Ben,” the DJ replied, struggling to hold back a giggle.  What a doofus!

Ben winked and shot off a finger gun.  “Knock ’em dead.”

As promised, as soon as Mary went to turn on the microphone, Ben held it, too—effectively holding her hand.  “Good evening, ladies and gentleman!” Mary announced, putting on her most professional airs and ignoring her silly co-worker.  “The time has finally come to announce the raffle winners!  You’ve waited all week for this, so here it is!  I’m pleased to announce…”

DENNIS, SHAUNTAL, and SIEBOLD—Congratulations!  Your names were the first to be drawn in the raffle.  You may now pick one (1) shiny Pokemon as your very own, so long as it is an Normal, Psychic, or Fairy-type.  There is no need to wait for the other winners to make their pick; everyone can choose whichever type they desire, regardless of what other types were chosen.

“Well of course!”

The Gym Leader cleared his throat.

“Try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.”