Work Text:
Bede looked at Gloria like she was the sun.
And for a while, it would remain that way.
Every glance her way was one of his frustration. Never would he dare to look at her any other way.
Off-League Season was always Bede’s most neutral state. Since recent times Opal had stepped down as gym leader so that the peculiar boy could take over for her. Every win was gratifying but, in the end, he was just another steppingstone made to challenge and beat down his opponents.
When the leaves turned orange and fell away, he found himself managing something aside from his plans for next League Season. Opal’s retirement opened new doors for both her and her protégé.
Located within central Ballonlea, the aged lady found herself in possession of a rather simplistic business. What was originally the ground floor of her apartment becoming a cozy flower shop, run by Opal and, begrudgingly on his part, Bede. While he owed Opal a favor he would never be capable of repaying, he found little enjoyment in working with flowers so far.
Yes, it wasn’t as entertaining as the thrill of battle and the look of hopeless defeat on his opponents’- minus her- face after their last pokémon slowly went down. It was something to do, though, and small portions of the profits were bestowed on him for helping. And when the days were slow, Opal would cook lunch for the both of them.
The shop had many regulars, usually the few residents of Ballonlea seeking flowers for themselves, others, or their pokémon, along with those could find their way through Glimwood Tangle and sightseers taking the Corviknight Taxi. Bede saw it as no surprise people far and wide sought the elusive flowers, as he always found that their upbringing in Balloonlea gave them rather magical properties.
As always though, where Bede was, she would inevitably be. He realized this from each of their encounters. While it was inevitable that he had a run-down with Gloria every now and then since both of them were former trial-goers, it was still odd the timing of it all. Her showing up in the Galar Mines only when he was present with his own business. He always felt she had a weird fascination with him, but not anything beyond that.
When Gloria was titled Champion of the region, though, things changed. During League Season it wasn’t uncommon for her to arrive at his gym, claiming she had just been wandering. Yet this excuse happened so often Bede wondered if she were as clueless with directions as Leon were.
That wasn’t her excuse when she dropped by the flower shop one afternoon. Bede kept to himself when the girl walked in, pretending to have not heard the chime of the bell on the doorframe, instead resuming his activity of organizing the most recent batch of flowers they received. The carnations of assorted colors were pretty, their colors ranging from pale white to a deep wine red. It was only when he was carefully pushing the last carnation to finish a color set when he felt the inevitable tap on his shoulder.
He knew it was coming, but in his state of focus it startled him. Bede whirled around, nearly tumbling over the basket of remaining carnations as he did so. He glared at Gloria with venom in his piercing periwinkle eyes. “What do you want?” he hissed, placing a hand on the rim of the basket to remind the girl that he was working.
Gloria, as per usual, ignored the cold behavior that was presented to her. Instead, she met his scowl with a kindred smile. “I keep hearing about this supposed flower shop run by the very gym leader of Balloonlea himself. I just had to see it for myself, y’know?” she said, a small tease to her statement.
The edge of Bede’s lip twitched, as if trying to frown further than it already was. Yet the flattery got the best of him and the glare melted away partially. He exhaled sharply, turning back to face the rows of carnations and beginning the next color set as he spoke, “First of all, I only work here, Opal is the one who owns it. Second, I can’t comprehend why you’d believe the desire to crack at me was a good enough reason to interrupt my work.”
She was unfazed by the mild scolding, only responding with a quiet chortle. Rather than leaving him to his work, Gloria stayed to watch. At least she was silent, Bede was grateful for that.
Her silence didn’t last long though. Before Bede could finish the current assortment he busied himself with, the Champion piped up with a question, “What kind of flower would you recommend?”
“Depends on the situation,” Bede answered, used to this question. It was a common one, even from regulars.
“Well... I don’t know...” she trailed off, swaying ever so slightly on her heels. She sounded almost hesitant, as if she thought she could get away with not telling him what situation she’d be needing these flowers for.
But Bede knew, even from his limited time working for Opal, that the kind of flower, or even just the color of the flower, could change the connotation of a gesture or gift real fast. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, his hands resuming to work in automatic movement, stacking the flowers in the tilted compartment. He chose not to question her hesitance, as it was also a common thing for him to see. “Is it for someone?” he asked her.
“Not in the way you’d think,” Gloria answered, straightening before she continued, “I- actually, never mind. It can wait.” She walked away, but there was a lack of a bell chime to signal her departure from the store. He decided not to find out what she was doing, finding the mere act of seeing her bring anger to him.
Aside from her, the shop was quiet. There was only one other customer at the time, who was occupied with their own activities. So, when the cash register pinged as it opened, Bede assumed it was that customer who had finally made their decision and was paying.
Shortly after the person left, Bede glanced up from his work, only to realize the person who had left was Gloria. He’d hate to admit it, but he was curious as to what she bought. She wasn’t a very flower-esque girl, or at least he didn’t think she was.
Later in the evening, Bede sat upstairs in a petite little chair, eyelids drooping with the typical sign of exhaustion. In both hands he held a small porcelain cup brimming with steaming tea. The warm vapor brushed against his face while he held the cup in front of him.
Opal was seated across from him, drinking from hers despite it still being scathingly hot. The elderly lady’s nerves had long grown numb to the heat from repeated servings of hot tea. Whenever Bede questioned why she couldn’t wait for the exotic-smelling drink to cool down, she just gave him a spirited smile and left it at that.
“That Gloria lass is rather sweet, isn’t she?” Opal spoke up, peering in to the bottom of her tea cup.
Bede shrugged. While he had the begging urge to say something sharp about Gloria, he desired to keep his contempt for her to himself, finding it a bit silly that he disliked her. He changed the subject to something related, wanting to keep his mind off that, but more so to avoid answering to the statement, “What did she buy?” he asked.
Opal answered without hesitation, “Oh, just a single bluebell. I do wonder what she wants it for.” She gazed out the purple-tinted window, as if the answer were there.
“Probably to put in a vase or something. I wouldn’t expect too much of it,” Bede remarked, drinking his tea after finding it a suitable temperature. It was truly strange, though. She seemed rather defensive when he questioned her about what she was planning, and it really did seem like she wanted to give it to somebody as a gift. Yet bluebells weren’t his first choice of gift, as the pale indigo flowers were a symbol of a humble goodwill.
So it came as a surprise when he found the bluebell delicately placed on the doormat to his cottage.
He held it up to the light, observing the delicate petals that the flower bore. He clenched a fist, feeling his muscles tense to hurl the flower in to the fireplace and light it ablaze, but he quickly relaxed. Bede could hate, but he could never take his hate out on something that doesn’t deserve it. He sighed and removed a mug from a cupboard, filling it with temperate tap water and dipping the cut stem of the bluebell in. He found it gratifying that the Champion visited him, and even thought of him at all, in the hectic nature of her schedule. Yet, he still wasn’t fond of her.
Bede looked at Gloria like she was the sun.
And it would remain that way for now.
The more he saw her the more he warmed up to her being around, but at the same time the more he wished she were gone.
Gloria would show up to his shop at least once a week for the rest of the month. For a while Bede chose to ignore her the best her could, but she always found a way to get under his skin. He knew she meant no harm and tolerated her as much as he wanted to shove her out of the store.
With her regular visits followed paparazzi and gossip too. He heard the mutters of some of his newer customers while the two conversed, and the occasional flash of a camera. Like he did with Gloria, he went along with it, but he knew there was only so much he could of the latter.
A more recent subject to Gloria’s playful banter was his work uniform. He knew it wouldn’t take long before one of his friends would come in and poke fun of the flowery apron he wore over the lavender tee and khakis Opal had forced him to wear. Even with this in mind, it still came as a surprise when he felt Gloria’s hands grab on to the back of his shoulders, feeling at the straps of the apron.
“How can you stand wearing this every day?” she trilled, oblivious to the bristling boy she had in her grip.
Bede swatted her hands away, his face flushed red with surprise from the unconsented physical contact. At first, he didn’t know what to say in response, completely caught off-guard. Gloria was always a touchy person, he admitted to that, but she knew to respect his boundaries up until now. He snorted, a witting reply escaping him before he knew what he was saying, “I tolerate it much more than I do with you.”
What flashed across Gloria’s face was a mixture of hurt and shock, but it faded away rather quickly. “You jest!” she exclaimed, exaggerating her feigned dismay by bringing the back of her hand to her forehead, her knees bending as she leaned back. “How dire it is to know only now that Bede doesn’t like me!” she sighed; her voice raised an octave.
It was a humorous act, and Bede smiled while watching it out of the corner of his eye. He otherwise said nothing, kneading through the dirt of a flowerpot he set in front of him, feeling for its roots and ensuring the roots were grown and that the plant was healthy.
Gloria still hadn’t gone away, and for a moment Bede was worried that she’d interrupt his work again, but to his relief Opal hobbled over to shoo the girl away. “Now now, let the young man work,” she told Gloria, resting a hand on her cane.
When she got the message, the girl smiled and nodded in understanding, a cheeky hint to her grin.
As usual, Bede heard the cash register ping shortly after, but before he heard the chime of the bell that would signal Gloria’s leaving, he felt a shoulder brush against his back and the familiar voice call to him, “See yah, Beet!”
That nickname was new, but surprisingly it didn’t rub him the wrong way. He’d let it slide just this once, or twice.
Opal took the flowerpot from Bede, pushing it so that it sat on the close by windowsill. “She really enjoys making fun of you,” she commented matter-of-factly. The elderly lady waddled to the closet and removed a broom, sweeping peacefully.
“She doesn’t mean any harm,” Bede hastily replied, looking up towards Opal to meet her gaze.
The two were still, locked in a silent duel. Bede was used to it, the stare-downs between them that happened every time one had even a slightly differing opinion. It was affectionate though.
Finally, Opal caved, she glanced away. “Of course, you’re at that age, I suppose,” she murmured, chuckling. Bede understood what she meant by this, and his face took on a deep red hue. He ducked his head, tugging at the collar of his shirt nervously. He didn’t feel for Gloria that way, they were just friends.
For now.
Teatime was quieter, not that that was bad. Silence was good for the soul, especially in the presence of company. Bede brought the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a stinging chill running down his spine. With winter right around the corner, the temperature had dropped vastly, and as he learned, Opal’s home didn’t have the best insulation upstairs. He used his cup of tea to warm his hands.
While Opal tipped the kettle to refill her cup, she met eyes with Bede. Despite how alert the boy typically was, at the end of the day he seemed godawfully tired. “Would you like to take some tea back to your place? It’s quite frigid outside,” Opal asked.
Bede shook his head. While he enjoyed tea, he wouldn’t avidly drink it. He’d rather let Opal have the rest as long as it stays warm.
He didn’t ask what Gloria bought this time, his mind reminiscing on that automatic remark he had made towards her. He felt bad, for once. Insults like that were just typical behavior from him, but it sounded as if that one had more venom to it than usual. Especially in this state of being semi-friends. He needed to get it off his chest in some way, so he did just that.
On his way out the building, he plucked a flower from one of the shelves. A purple hyacinth, a symbol of regret, typically. He held it carefully, tucking it in to his fuchsia jacket when he left the shop and entered the brisk air.
With a bit of detouring and using his Hatterene to quickly get himself to Postwick, Bede treaded his way up the path, careful to remain quiet. In one hand he held a brass chamberstick with a lit candle, in the other was the flower. He didn’t know how often Gloria stayed here, regarding how often she would be out camping or in a hotel. He just hoped that one of the windows cascading with light was the window to her bedroom. He picked up a pebble in his hand and tossed it lightly, weighing it. Using his throwing arm, he tossed it at the window, letting it clatter against the glowing glass. He dropped the flower by the stones lining the garden along with the chamberstick and stood there idiotically. He only left when he saw the curtains shuffle, anxiety getting the best of him.
Once back at his cottage, he found something laid on his doormat once more. It was another bluebell, a slightly deeper hue compared to the last one. Bede placed this one in the mug as well, leaving it as a centerpiece on the coffee table. It was a small collection of flowers, just two bluebells, but something inside him wished that the flower would change, but no reason for the thought was ever given.
Bede looked at Gloria like she was the sun.
And it wouldn’t remain that way for long.
In the days he felt her warmth, the only time he missed her the most was when she hid.
After that, Gloria stopped showing up. The first day Bede thought nothing of it, but it persisted day after day.
On the days he swept, he imagined the days she danced around him despite his annoyance. She was a bull in a china shop, or, more so a flower shop. Yet even with her rambunctious antics to annoy or pester him, he never noticed how careful she was truly being. She became more stationary when the risk of breaking anything was high.
On the days he tended to plants, his mind wandered back to his apron. While he wouldn’t say it in front of Gloria or Opal, it was a bit of a silly apron. The numerous flowers printed all over the center of it overtook what seemed to be a paisley pattern, and it was hard to decide whether that was a good or bad thing. While Bede never took time to think about it, he knew the customers did and were likely too polite to point it out to him. It would be too embarrassing for the both of them, but Gloria had no shame at all.
She was the type of girl to just roll with the punches. While Bede has seen only a fraction of the pokémon she’s faced, a fraction of the gym leaders she had to fight, and just about a fraction of any other situation she has been in before he had his rite to the Gym Challenge revoked. She would never know the embarrassment that was being felt all over by an older lady quintuple his age before being dragged off.
While it wasn’t something he liked to remember, it was only once. In the end, only a handful of people had seen it, and it wasn’t noteworthy. Gloria never brought it up, maybe to save him his dignity.
The days went on as usual, Bede finding himself helping customers as usual, but things felt slower and duller with those whimsical moments he spent with his ex-rival now missing. While he potted a red tulip, he could’ve sworn he saw a flash of that familiar beige cardigan and washed-out magenta blouse. It was always a trick of the light though, and while Balloonlea was known for its tricks, this was one he would never get used to.
It happened every other day, that same ordeal. One moment he’d be thinking he saw her, and the next she was gone. It was always a trick of the light, always.
Until one day it wasn’t.
On days where the shop received ‘special orders’, Bede was tasked to deliver them himself. These orders included anything beyond pickup size or exceptions made with more prominent figures too busy to pick them up. The later rarely happened though, with most figures sending representatives to pick them up in place of them.
A week ago, an order was placed for two crates worth of assorted camellias for a dedicated grass-type trainer, to be delivered the Wyndon. Bede never complained when it came to tasks like these, as he saw them as a way for him to escape the shop while still working. So, when the time came and he was given only a hand truck and two sturdy wooden crates stack on top of it, he called upon his pokémon to get him where he needed to be. With a free hand, he stroked the top of his Hatterene and returned it to its pokéball.
He wheeled the dolly down the main plaza of Wyndon, recalling the address of the recipient. Unable to properly remember, he stopped outside the station, opening the top crate to unveil the small piece of paper that was the receipt. On the very bottom the address was printed. As he read it out to himself, one hand felt along the various flowers packed in the crate in a methodical pattern to prevent them from crushing one another. He removed one from the cluster, feeling along the curving pink petals. It was uncommon to see a camellia with this many petals, maybe that was just something related to their origin in Balloonlea. He folded the receipt and tucked it away in the crate.
That was when he saw her. Bede saw Gloria, and to his surprise it wasn’t some mean-spirited fae jerking his chain. The girl was walking down the shop-centric district of the city, and Bede was just about to curse her under his breath, but he found her amble to be not as leisurely as he perceived. She looked almost hurried, but not wanting to run.
So, Bede did her a favor, by running for her. His hand curled around the stem of the camellia, and he took off, ditching the hand truck.
Running was not what he found it to be. In his days as a trial-goer, running was second nature for him, but after more than a year of having to juggle his job assisting Opal and the three months that were spared to him during League Season, he ran less and less.
Due to this, when he caught up to Gloria, when he held the sleeve of her beige cardigan in his empty hand, Bede was out of breath. His knees were buckling under his own gasping frame. He was only able to properly speak when Gloria held him up by the shoulder, his own arm having released her sleeve and now holding on to her shoulder too. Before he could speak, though, Gloria did.
She spoke surprised, but softly, “Easy there, the hell are you doing here?” her gaze was inquisitive, but through it, Bede could see that familiar warm friendliness.
Bede caught his breath, lifting his head up only to be meet eyes with Gloria. His heart skipped a beat and his breath hitched as he stared in to her chocolate-brown eyes. He tore his gaze away, mumbling quietly, “I was wondering where you’ve been...”
“So that’s what this is all about? Things have been busy lately, and the dead of winter is always a bit of a problematic time period for being a champion, y’know? I have many humanitarian issues I must deal with,” she explained, retreating an arm when Bede recovered.
She was apologetic about the whole situation, but Bede knew that really, he was the one at fault here. Getting so caught up in the high of having Gloria around that when she disappeared for a bit, he tried to find her.
“Wait, did you come out here to Wyndon because you missed me?” Gloria asked, a newfound smirk on her face.
Bede jolted, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. “God no. I had a delivery addressed to someone here, and I saw you. I’m not that desperate,” he snapped defensively.
Gloria nodded slowly. “Hum, what a coincidence,” she remarked.
While he wished he could’ve cleared his case here, Bede didn’t want to make it seem that he had indeed pursued Gloria across half the region any further. He instead snagged at her wrist and forced her palm open, speaking briskly, “Here, just take this.” He placed the stem of the camellia in her hand, letting her fingers close around the lush green of the flower stem.
He didn’t dare look at her, never seeing that her cheeks grew dusted with a red hue, as he didn’t want her to notice that his were the same. He just turned away and walked off at a slight stride.
The delivery went well. Surprisingly the hand truck hadn’t been ransacked while he was away. The customer was pleased, albeit a bit annoyed that the shipment had taken longer than what was stated. With no specified number of flowers, the one missing camellia went unnoticed, too, so there was that.
Yet his rundown with Gloria was still fresh on his mind, throughout the rest of the day and evening he was left thinking about it. Even Opal noticed something was off about her protégé, but she respected his space and kept to herself for the time being.
They both knew, but neither wanted to talk about Bede’s newfound and obvious crush on Gloria.
There was no flower on his doorstep that day, but he found that comforting. He hated to get another bluebell now, when he had enough to make a bouquet of them. Among them were more recent gifts he would find on his doormat, morning glories. Knowing what the latter of the flowers meant, he couldn’t help but smile reassuringly.
Bede looked at Gloria like she was the moon.
And for a while, it would remain that way.
In his darkest times, she would be the one thing to light up his world.
And on the days he saw her, she was a welcome addition to his life.
The year was just about wrapping up, and Bede was sweeping the floor of the flower shop. He stayed back late due to the recent influx of customers from the holiday season. It wasn’t too common to buy flowers for someone in this time of the year, but it surely wasn’t rare. Luckily and unluckily, they were the only quality flower shop around for miles, so anyone who did have the bright idea to gift somebody a bouquet immediately flocked to the shop.
Now here he was, cleaning up in a time where he would be back in his cottage eating dinner. The sky had long taken on a jet-black coloring, from what he could see between the canopy of Glimwood’s trees.
As Bede swept poinsettia petals down the aisle towards a dustpan, Opal left her position from the cash register to properly close the shop. She cast a smile Bede’s way, and the boy stopped working and looked up in her direction. It wasn’t because of the smile, no, he had seen her smile all too many times.
He was hearing rapid footsteps, growing closer with every waking second.
The broom handle slid unnoticed from his hands, clattering to the ground when someone tore through the air and slid a hand over the door handle, yanking it open.
Gloria, of course she had to be here.
She slid in to the shop, her chest rising and falling quickly but in a much better shape than Bede had been yesterday.
“Gloria?” Bede breathed. Yeah, he wasn’t too good with words when in situations like these. He didn’t know why or how she was here when normally she would be having her downtime like he was supposed to.
She snapped one of the pre-prepared bouquets of its display and approached Bede, shoving it in his hands like he had to her with the camellia. She was silent, but the vivid expression on her face radiated ‘you idiot’ vibes.
Bede was stunned, but he ignored the bouquet itself. Instead he had felt the frigid chill that clung to Gloria’s fingertips, and his jaw tightened.
She was shivering ever so slightly, yet the cold didn’t stop her from coming to this shop to directly profess something, apparently.
He sighed and held the bouquet to his chest, the fragrance of the mingle of red tulips and roses invading his space. He paced to the back of the room, going behind the counter. “Did you come all the way here without a jacket?” he asked, “I’m not even surprised,” he added upon seeing her nod. He took his fuchsia jacket from the coatrack and walked back to Gloria, propping the yoke of it on her shoulders.
Now, the bouquet. His heart ached not from pain but from relief. He just didn’t know how to properly express his own requiting of these feelings. A smile cracked along the edges of his lips. He looked up at Opal, but before he could ask to be let off early, the elderly lady nodded.
He left the shop, Gloria shortly behind him.
As he expected, it was cold, incredibly cold. His arms clapped to his chest, holding himself. Gloria brushed against him, and he saw how ridiculous she looked in the oversized jacket. Even if it was big on him, it was much bigger on her more elegant physique.
“Have you eaten anything?” was the only thing he could say to her. He felt relaxed, yet anxious.
She shook her head, surprisingly. He would’ve thought she had eaten before she left for the shop. Leave it to the Champion to have a hectic schedule.
Inside his home, Gloria was sitting on his couch with his jacket still wrapped around herself tightly. She stared at the centerpiece on the coffee table, the bushel of flowers that he had kept for the past month. The original bluebell was slightly wilted, but resilient.
“So, you kept these after all that?” she asked, arms resting on her thighs.
“What? What did you expect?” Bede fired back, looking over his shoulder at her. In front of him, a sauce pot of curry simmered on the stovetop.
She shrugged. “Dunno, just thought you would’ve destroyed the first few ones, or something.”
Bede dipped a ladle in to the pot and removed it, taking some of the steaming curry with it. “No, definitely not. Those flowers really did mean something to me.”
And that’s how he spent the rest of his night. Not alone, but with someone he never knew he loved until now. It was a strange feeling, but it was one he’d grow use to. Nothing would ever replace the memory of the two side by side, not talking but feeling, as they ate their curry in a blissfully radiant atmosphere.
To Bede, Gloria is the only star in his sky, decorating an otherwise dark world.