Chapter Text
The hardest Hop had ever cried was when his brother had left.
He sobbed into his mother’s chest unceasingly, his hands clutching her blouse. She very patiently held him close, ignoring the tears that dotted her clothing. He remembers the aftermath very clearly, his voice hoarse, his eyes burning for what felt like hours when it only happened to be a couple of minutes.
“Why did he have to leave now ?” His voice was so small and frail, the strain clear in his pitiful tone. It was a question he’d repeat for the next few months as Leon would enjoy his time venturing the country without him. “Why couldn’t I have gone with him?” Hop would refuse to separate from his brother for years, clinging to Leon’s arm almost as if he were a precious antique, afraid to lose him. But only now would he have to suffer the withdrawal of being alone, actually alone, for the first time.
“You’re much too young, sweetheart,” She would stroke his hair as they sat on the worn couch. The television sputtered something insignificant, possibly about the very challenge his own brother was partaking in. The noises that came from the telly were merely background noise to him, his hiccups slowly softening.
He didn’t like the idea of moving to such a remote place. To live in a “cozy” home, practically away from civilization (his family believed him to be exaggerating, but it was true!) But his mother simply insisted that they lived in Postwick. So Leon could start his challenge properly—at Route One. Leon adored the idea. He, most likely, thought that the concept was romantic. He would only have to be patient, he was told, until he could take part in the very challenge his brother was aiming to complete. In just a few years, he could join his brother in the challenge as well. But Leon would be Champion by then. Perhaps not everyone believed it, but Hop knew. He would become Champion. Leon told him so himself. He promised. And so he would do the challenge alone.
Without Leon, the house was abnormally quiet. There were scattered conversations within the household, of small little things that Hop never bothered to pay attention to before. Though now, he couldn’t help but listen to the discussions that would take place. It wasn’t particularly anything he was interested in, tax-rates and politics or whatever adults seemed to talk about.
Throughout the house, he would carry the Pokéball. His Pokéball, he was very proud to add. The ball was small, though with his small hands it just barely fit the base of his palm. Leon had caught it for him. A Wooloo.
“Think of it as a farewell gift, alright?” Leon had bent down to his knee to talk to Hop, placing the Pokéball very gently in his hand. At that moment, he felt a great weight of responsibility pushed down on his shoulders. He felt like a real trainer. Like Leon. “Hold that one for me, okay? And you’ll meet me one day in the championships. With that Pokémon.” Hop nodded vigorously, tears dotting his eyes. But he wouldn’t cry. Not in front of his brother.
Every day, his mother would hear Hop’s pleading voice ask to release the Pokémon inside the house, but every time he would be met with a stern no. He’d try time and time again, though he was never surprised at the answer he’d always receive.
“If you’ve got the mind to release that Wooloo in our house, you can certainly do it outside!” She said one day. “Make some friends, Hop. You’ll get lonely if it's just you and that Pokémon every day.”
“Not true!” His cheeks puffed, crossing his arms. It was very much what a child would do during a tantrum, though Hop thoroughly believed that he was correct. “Leon told me to take care of Wooloo until he gets back! I’ll be fine 'til then!”
“Hop,” His mother talked to him in that very condescending tone, much like mothers were inclined to do. The warning tone that played in her voice made Hop freeze a bit. “It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t it? If Leon becomes Champion, who’s going to be your rival?”
“Leon, of course!” He said in a matter of fact way, almost offended at his mother’s remark. “Who else would it be?”
“Leon has friends to travel with this year,” It was Sonia she was talking about. They had been good friends for quite a while, it was obvious that they’d travel together. There would be various other rivals he would meet on his journey as well, he was almost sure of it. As strong as he was, there’d certainly be trainers swarming to battle him. But Hop didn’t have anyone like that. Hop stood there, fiddling with the Pokéball he held so often. “Just try. Only for today, okay?”
And so, very suddenly, he was outside. He stood just in front of his front door, just behind him stood the rest of his neighborhood. Nervously, he clutched his Pokéball that held his Wooloo to his chest. He wanted to release his friend then and there, though something stopped him. There were small groups of challengers that gathered at Route One, perhaps training their Pokémon to prepare for the first gym. They came in groups of two or three, wandering the grassy terrain cautiously. Leon was not among them. He walked outside of the fence that surrounded his house. Giving a little huff through his nose, Hop stared up at the hill.
Just like when he first arrived in Postwick, the home that stood on top of the hill loomed down on Hop. There was little movement seen by the house, he noticed. There were often small herds of Wooloo that hung around the house, fenced in near the front. Some would loiter near the strange small gates that always stay closed. But no one ever left the house, or at least, Hop had never caught anyone. A small part of him had begun to suspect that the place was haunted, though the house looked much too cute for something like that. The home had a rustic sort of feel, homely, though the sun that gleamed onto the back of the house made it shadow his own. It was almost intimidating, how the house seemed to loom so tauntingly in the distance.
Laughter sounded from the edge of Route One. A group training their Pokémon crowded around one trainer. He held up his starter, a Zigzagoon, away from his face at arm's length as it attempted to lick him. Hop knew that if it had, the boy would most likely be paralyzed. It was hardly anything to joke about, yet the group of trainers didn’t look at all phased. It wasn’t something Hop was good at; talking to people. He’d say something wrong and suddenly the conversation was at a standstill. People found him too energetic, too loud, though he never tried to be. The kids were all much older than him, Leon’s age. No one in Postwick appeared to be his own age.
He did make a friend though, contrary to his mother’s belief. He gripped his Pokéball a little tighter. For what reason would he absolutely need to make another friend? Hop himself saw little to no point, after all Leon would be waiting for him after he becomes Champion. He wouldn’t do the challenge alone. He would have his Pokémon. He was almost tempted to walk back inside, to say “Sorry, mum, the town is as bland as ever,”. But something sounded on top of the hill.
He felt a chill run down his spine as his eyes drifted to the noise. On top of the hill, the hill that saw little activity save for the Wooloo that cried every so often, the door slowly creaked open. The noise was grating, it had felt like something out of a horror movie. He almost dared himself to believe it was actually a ghost, though he felt his heartrate rush when he couldn’t see a single figure walk out of the doorway. Curiosity seemed to fuel him more than his fear, though he tried to stop himself as he inched closer to the house.
And then he saw a bag. Only a bag, really. It was larger than Hop was, or at least it seemed so from that far away. A cute little Pokémon was illustrated on its large yellow front. He could wager that it was some sort of on-brand Pokémon food, the cute Pidove cooing reticently on the sack. He could barely see the two small arms that clutched the thing, though it took only then to realize that there was someone behind that large bag.
“Mmph,” Someone grunted from behind the bag. The voice was small, young. It was interesting to see how the child walked. They waddled, grunting every so often as they made their way towards the little fountain that sat at the edge of their house. Hop didn’t think to help, though it wasn’t anything out of malice. Curiosity placed him curtly at the bottom of the hill, watching the bag move from one side of the house to the other. He never noticed the fact until now, but the fountain was refilled daily with water and food. It was only now that he had caught the person in the act.
The bag was dropped near the fountain. Hop was shocked to see a boy his age, which was more of a surprise to him than the fact that he truly let himself believe there to be a ghost living in the house in the first place. Almond colored hair was hidden behind a gray knit cap (much too big for him, Hop thought, the thing seemed to constantly slide down to his eyes). He had rosy cheeks, despite the cool fall weather. There was a moment of silence as the boy attempted to regain his breath and as Hop only stood there, watching as if the boy were the star of an enrapturing nature documentary.
The boy began to whistle. It startled Hop for some reason, though he couldn’t think of a reason why he would be on edge. The tune wasn’t anything he had recognized. In fact, he could say it hardly sounded like music at all. He cupped his hands in a strange sort of way, the noise that followed sounded like a call. The call of a Rookiedee sounded. Almost in response. It seemed like something out of a fairytale, he thought, a princess singing to the Pokémon that surrounded her. Though the boy was far from a princess. Perhaps not too far, actually, he seemed very ethereal in a sense Hop couldn’t quite place. The boy didn’t look displaced by the call at all. In fact, it seemed like a conversation as he whistled back. Every so often, the boy would pour a bit of the food into the fountain. He whistled again, and again the Rookiedee called. Very suddenly, the Pokémon landed at the fountain.
Very slowly, a couple more flying types would land at the fountain, eating the seed that the boy gave to them. It was only now that Hop thought to speak, seeing the boy attempt to grab the bag once again to take into his house.
“Hey!” Hop exclaimed, raising an arm into the air. The boy jumped, nearly out of his own skin, as he finally saw Hop standing at the bottom of the hill. The birds flew away at his outburst, also startled by Hop. He didn’t quite mean to seem threatening, though the boy’s face made him think that perhaps he was a bit too brash. “D’you need any help there?” The boy quickly shook his head before scurrying back into his own house. “W-Wait…!” But there wasn’t much he could do before the door slammed, rendering the house once again silent and still, and Hop once again alone at the bottom of the hill.
And he stood there for a moment, in slight confusion. There was a very long pause as he still stared at the house, the house that was not empty, waiting for something to happen. Flying Pokémon slowly returned to the fountain, chirping every so often. But the boy didn’t exit the house again that day.
He’d try again the next day, of course. At around the same time, the boy was in the midst of Wooloo that were fenced in near the house. He was knee-deep in a sea of cotton, the Wooloo would cry as they watched him hold a rack of hay above his head. There was a small smile that played on the boy’s lips as he guided himself through the massive amount of Pokémon. Hop quickly clutched his heart, a sort of stabbing sensation at his chest, though he was probably only nervous to talk to his neighbor. As he put the rack down, the Wooloo flooded to the food, despite the grass that surrounds each of them.
When he exited the pen, he noticed Hop standing there. He was closer to the house that day, standing on the stairs that led him to the top of the hill.
“Hey there!” Hop tried to say, though the boy immediately looked the other way, walking closer to the entrance of his own home. “Hey now, wait!” He called, but the boy didn’t stop. Hop tried to walk up the hill, but he was already at his front door. “Can I at least get your name?” The boy paused as he opened the door, looking back at Hop for a moment. There was a large flush that spread upon the boy’s face, his mouth quivering nervously as they stared at each other.
“Victor!” He yelled. His voice was a lot louder than he had expected, though it seemed to have startled the both of them. He slammed the door, but Hop was able to realize that it wasn’t out of anger.
Victor. It was a nice name, he thought. He had only wished to introduce himself as well.
The next day, he attempted to introduce himself. His neighbor went to check the mail, though he gave a huff when all it held were prescriptions to magazines that didn’t interest him. Once Victor had noticed him, however, he had retreated back inside before he could make an attempt to say anything. The day after, he caught Victor playing with some of the Wooloo. He leaned on the fence, holding some sort of toy and waving it while the Pokémon attempted to bite at the thing. As he approached, Victor quickly stuffed the toy into his pocket and retreated into the house.
Each day, Hop had greeted the boy with a smile, only for him to run. Of course, he wasn’t trying to be intimidating or scary. Part of him thought to simply give up, to leave the poor boy alone. He had left the house a lot more often than he used to now, giving his mother a quick goodbye as he thought to try and befriend his cute neighbor that scurried away so often.
But one day he had stopped. He looked outward, instead of toward the small little house on top of the hill, toward Route One. His brother was headed toward the first gym right now. He hadn’t thought about it in days, but very soon he would see his brother on the telly, battling the grass-type leader.
There was a pause as he stood outside, watching the grass sway as the autumn wind pushed it from side to side. In his hand, like every other day, he held his Pokéball. And after a moment, he clicked the button on its front. Very quickly, Wooloo emerged from the ball. He shook and stretched, eager to be out of his Pokéball.
“Hey, mate,” Hop crouched down, scratching the back of his ears. The Wooloo stepped closer, a very clear smile sat on his face. His Wooloo was different. Different than the rest of the Wooloo that littered Postwick. On his nose, a splotch of black was seen, almost as if someone had spilled a bit of black paint onto the small thing. His horns were much smaller, almost invisible. They were hidden within his cotton exterior. “At least you’ll talk to me.” He baa’d in response. He used the word ‘talk’ in a very loose sense.
Part of him was excited to see Leon’s fight. It would be his first real one, his first professional one. He, at first, was incredibly confident in his brother’s ability. He was strong, the strongest Hop had ever seen. But as time passed, worry began to wear away at his mind. He would be fine, he had to assure himself. Part of him started to believe that he was more anxious about the battle than Leon would have been.
Footsteps sounded from the outside of his house. The Wooloo turned before he did, giving a polite little baa at the person who stood behind him. Victor stood just outside the gates of his own house, standing meekly as he stared at his shoes. There was an unsure pause, the silence making Hop tense.
“...’Lo there,” Is all the boy could think to say as he tugged at the hem of his own jacket. His voice sounded strange, his accent was noticeably different than Hop’s. It also sounded unsure. Hop noticed Victor’s eyes flickering from Hop’s Pokémon to his own house very frequently.
“Hop,”
“Huh?” Victor stared at Hop now, his eyes nearly piercing into Hop’s.
“That’s my name,” His Wooloo sat, gleefully and cluelessly watching the conversation take place. “You had run away so often that I never got to tell you!”
“Sorry,” Again, Victor stared at his shoes, avoiding Hop’s glare. It wasn’t much of a glare though, despite what Victor may have thought at the time. And there was another silence.
“Did you—” Hop said.
“I wanted—” Victor said. Victor began to flush profusely, grabbing the hem of his jacket a bit tighter. “To… see your Pokémon” Hop looked at Wooloo, and then looked back. Wooloo was blissfully unaware of the request, happily staring at the boy who still stood outside of his home.
“It’s only my Wooloo,” Hop let himself give an unsure smile.
“Oh, I know!” Victor peeked, finally letting go of his jacket. “But, um, I’d still like to meet yours… If you don’t mind.” As Hop stared, he saw beads of sweat dot his neighbor’s forehead. Slowly, Hop stood up from his crouch, stepping away from his Pokémon. Wooloo looked at Hop expectantly.
“It’s alright,” Hop nodded, and quickly the Pokémon bounded towards Victor. It nearly tackled the poor boy, Hop sort of panicked as Wooloo charged, but Victor gave a light little chuckle. Something stabbed at his heart again. Victor pet the Wooloo just below the chin, his Pokémon giving a little happy baa. “You have a lot of Wooloo don’t you?”
“I do,” His smile was still there. Hop seemed to hold his breath, hoping that it would stay there for just a bit longer. “Every Pokémon is different though.” That was true. As Victor pet Hop’s Pokémon, Hop stood there. And just like his Wooloo, Hop bounded toward Victor. He was startled, of course, but Hop sat near the both of them, crossing his legs and putting a hand on his Pokémon’s back. “...Hop is your name?”
“Mhm,” He nodded. Hop’s smile was evident as he rested his head in his hand.
“Your real name?” Victor asked once again.
“...Yeah?” Hop’s smile dissolved, replaced with a look of confusion. His name was strange to other people, perhaps. He quite liked his name, though. It clearly rolled off of his tongue, it would be a perfect name for when he became a Pokémon trainer. Some days, however, he wondered if he should have chosen a better name. Something more traditional. Victor paused. Hop only thought to stare.
“It… It makes sense,” Victor said after a moment, a blush that Hop began to get used to, spread once again throughout his face.
“It… makes sense?” The best thing about a brother, Hop had thought, is that he didn’t have to introduce himself. There was no need for small talk as you and your brother understood each other without words. But in talking to Victor, he was especially careful. He didn’t know what was right to say, or when to say anything. It was an oddity, he believed, but it wasn’t anything he completely hated.
“You—Well, I…” Victor’s hand drifted from the Wooloo. His Wooloo made a point to lay his head on Victor’s lap as compensation. “You’re very energetic. I think. Well yes, you are. You, I guess, are quite the… hopper.” He stammered through his words, almost as if he was unsure of saying them. Hop laughed very suddenly at that claim, nearly snorting. It wasn’t bad to talk to people like Victor, he thought. Victor slowly let himself smile, and after a bit chuckled as well as he watched Hop give his loud laughter.
“I like that! I really do!” Hop said, pointing at Victor. He nervously scratched the back of his neck, but his smile was there. It was there after days of fruitlessly chasing it. “I really like your smile! You should stop hiding it so often!” Almost as if on instinct, Victor looked away. He scratched his own cheek, his smile wavering. He seemed to try to stifle it, but the compliment only made him smile a bit more.
“I, um…” He stared at the Wooloo that sat in his lap. “I like your smile too.” Something stabbed at his chest. It wasn’t very noticeable at first, really, but now it made his heart pound in a way he hadn’t experienced before. Quickly, he let his hand go to his chest, but nonetheless he gave a smile as to thank Victor.
I like your smile too. It was strange how it made him felt. He watched Victor pet his Pokémon, staring at his lap. He couldn’t understand why his heart seemed to rattle so often around Victor. How his face nearly flush in the same way that Victor was inclined to doing. But he was making progress with him. Real progress. And, he thinks, finding such a friend is a rarity.
“Is your friend coming over today?” His mother would ask. The question was constant, he’d hear it almost every day. It was almost as if she was impressed with Hop’s success in making a new friend. Stifling a groan, he would lament to tell her that no, his friend would not be coming over that day. Very often afterward, Hop would skip out of the house to meet Victor who patiently waits just outside of his house.
Victor had visited Hop’s house only once. His mother was surprised to see the boy at their home, standing at the door with him. He only thought to stare at the ground as Hop gave a confident huff through his nose.
“Sorry,” Victor shrunk under his mother’s gaze before she could even say anything.
“Mate, I told you it’s okay,” He nudged Victor in his side with his elbow. “My friend Victor wanted to see the fight today. S’that alright?” ‘My friend’ he says. He felt something bubble in his chest as the words managed to tumble out of his mouth. His mother looked at Victor for a moment, though Victor hadn’t the courage to look back.
“Of course!” She gave a genuine smile as she stepped to the side, allowing both of them to step inside. “It’s very nice to meet you, Victor.”
“Likewise,” He managed to mumble, giving an embarrassed look to the door. Hop was very tempted to give him a tour of the place, as if he were a prideful host at a dinner party, though even he knew that there wasn’t much to see.
“Hop!” His mother called as she closed the door. “Get the bread from the oven please.”
“Okay!” He answered as he made way for the kitchen. Victor saw the incentive to follow him but was cornered by his grandparents. They asked him all sorts of questions, like his hobbies, aspirations, and whatnot. He would give one-word answers, politely nodding as his grandparents droned on about things he knew was impossible for Victor to care about. Poor Victor, Hop thought as he reached for the oven mitts that sat on the side of the counter. Too polite for his own good. Perhaps he should have hesitated when Victor asked to come over, though the excitement displayed in Victor’s voice when he had asked to watch the match together hardly made Hop think of another answer. He hadn’t thought Victor to be the battling type at all. His mention of Leon’s battle was what got Victor to talk to him so genuinely.
“Hurry, Hop, the match is starting!” His grandfather called from the couch as he pulled the banana bread from the oven. Without thinking, he set it down on the table and rushed to the couch. He jumped over the back of the couch, landing right next to Victor who had jolted at the sudden bounce on the cushions. He most definitely was quite the hopper. “Did you get the bread?”
“It’s out of the oven!” His grandfather seemed to want to say more, but abrupt shouting thundered from the telly.
Out walked Leon. The crowd was ballistic, cheering on both of the opponents that walked onto the battlefield. The number one was displayed on the back of his outfit. The wind lightly brushed past his shirt, fluttering it a bit.
“Oh, just look at him…!” His mother put a hand to her chest, watching her son walk amidst the large crowd of people shouting his name. Hop’s heart rattled in his ears. Beads of sweat dripped from his temple as he grasped his trousers. Victor spared a glance in Hop’s direction with a small frown though his attention was diverted as he heard Leon give a confident chuckle.
Leon stared at the opposing trainer with such intensity, such confidence, that it almost scared Hop. Despite the smile that he flaunted, he was very serious. And looking at Leon made him realize that Hop was his total opposite. He wasn’t as confident as his brother, not nearly as talented or quick-witted. He gave a little look to the family that sat to his left. They all celebrated Leon’s appearance on the television, eagerly watching as he got ready to send out his first Pokémon. Would they do this when Hop was on the telly? Would they eagerly surround the screen, watching as he traversed each gym one by one?
Victor to his right was silent, watching the screen with a straight face. His face wasn’t placed with a look of anxiety or embarrassment, emotions that Hop was used to seeing, it was unreadable. Hop thought he would be excited for this day, but something made him sink into the couch as he watched Leon send his Charmeleon out onto the battlefield. Hop didn’t understand why he was so worried, with a fire type Pokémon against a grass type gym, he would be done in less than a moment.
The Gym Leader sent out an Eldegoss. Hop sank further into the couch. Most definitely, it would take less than a moment. The opposing leader had three Pokémon, and although anyone would think that he was at the high ground, the type advantage Leon had gained from a single Charmeleon was far greater. In only two shots, the Eldegoss was gone with Leon’s Charmeleon taking very little damage. His family cheered, but for some reason, he forgot to.
He would be doing this too, wouldn’t he? Was his anxiety really stemmed from worry for his brother…? Unease pierced at his mind as he watched the Gym Leader cast out a Whimsicott. Leon gave a happy huff through his nose, his eyebrows furrowing in poise. There was no malice set between either of the trainers on the battlefield. Each of them was having their own form of fun. Would it be the same for Hop? The idea of the challenge so allured him at first, but there were so many questions that began to litter his mind. He hadn’t noticed that the Whimsicott was cast off of the battlefield in defeat.
The Gym Leader gave a confident little smirk as a Lombre was put onto the field. Leon must have been too confident, Hop thought. The Gym Leader’s Pokémon was of a higher level than Leon’s, though he felt his mouth twitch as he saw Charmeleon still on the field. One hit from a water type move could demolish him.
“What is he doing…?” Hop hadn’t meant to sound aggravated, though it was very clear that Leon’s Pokémon would get knocked out in one shot. Lombre was part water type as well, it was a smart move to include a dual-type like that. Many overconfident trainers would blast through the gym with only a fire type, unsuspecting of a water type waiting for them. Leon wasn’t a complete fool. He watched as a tiny bead of sweat slipped down Leon’s temple, though his smile remained.
“...I know what he’s going to do,” Victor said quietly. It was much too quiet for his family to hear, though Hop managed to steal a quick glance at Victor beside him. Victor bit his lip, staring at the screen with an intensity that he had never seen on him before.
“Hydro Pump!” The leader called, an easy arm outstretched.
“Charmeleon, Acrobatics!” Leon huffed. Acrobatics was a flying type move. Very easily, Leon’s Pokémon jumped out of the way, startling both the Lombre and the Gym Leader. Dodging each blast of water that came his way, The Charmeleon flexed his claws as he managed to scratch the Lombre at its backside. Each slice after the other, the Lombre slowly stopped trying to blast the opposing Pokémon with water. And after a moment, Charmeleon stopped, standing just in front of the Lombre. Very slowly, it fell, dirt scattering from the thud that it made.
Hop was startled. They all sat there for a moment, processing what was happening on the screen. Leon noticed the camera that pointed in his direction and gave it a daring smile. He won. His mother gave excited laughter as his grandparents cheered at the boy on the screen as if he would reply. Hop smiled. He really did it, didn’t he? He let his shoulders loosen, placing a quick hand on his own arm. There was no real reason to be worried in the first place. He beat a Gym Leader with one Pokémon. Hop knew how powerful Leon was, he had been telling people for years. Despite the disadvantage, Victor seemed to realize how Leon’s victory would come just a beat before it happened.
To his side, Victor stared at the screen. There was no smile on his face, but something different shone in his eyes. He gripped his shirt, watching Leon and the Gym Leader shake hands. It was awe, Hop could practically see something click in Victor, how Leon’s fight changed him. And as he stared at Victor for a little longer, he felt his mother nudge his shoulder.
“You never did get the bread, did you?”
“It’s out of the oven!”
“I want to do that,” Victor said as Hop walked him home. The sun had finally set, the darkness of night only just now setting in. Victor stared onward, with that same unreadable expression on his face. Hop looked at Victor for a moment before continuing forward.
“What do you mean?” He asked though something in him knew exactly what he meant. Exactly how he felt.
“I want to be out there, fighting like that,” He said. It was far too brash for it to come from Victor, though he watched the words fall so confidently from his mouth. Hop gave a laugh, making Victor’s typical panicked expression return. “Wh-Was that too much? Sorry—I’m sorry!”
“No, it's just a coincidence is all,” He ignored Victor’s nervous stammers, much too used to them by now. Hop walked up the stairs, Victor leading the way. “I want to do that too.” He stood just in front of the door, yet Victor paused. He stared at the doorknob for much longer than a moment, the moon completely out now. It bounced atop his hair, his usual brown color fading into a slight white from the moonlight. Victor turned to look at Hop. He stood at its doorstep as Hop lingered just below him. The incline made Victor’s shadow cover Hop completely.
“Will you do it with me?” He asked. It sounded so much less like a question. It sounded more so like a proposal, he thought, that strange hopeful and starstruck look dancing in his eyes once again. They looked at each other for more than a moment. Hop stared, almost entranced at the gaze Victor gave him. For once, he didn’t waver. He just stood there and waited expectantly. Hop didn’t understand why he felt this stabbing feeling in his chest so often around Victor, it almost hurt at times, but something in him didn’t want it to stop. He let a slow smile play at his lips. The smile wasn’t nearly as energetic, but it was genuine.
“Yeah,” He said. “We’ll do it together.”