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He believed that he and Gloria were at a good place now. It wasn’t quite like the beginning when things were as easy and effortless as breathing. But now, now things were good, better than the interval of months without them hardly speaking, better than when he first found out about she was with that pink jerk of a--
The point was, they were good now, just different. Their few interactions built around her busy schedule and his responsibilities as Sonia’s assistant were fine, good. Since he took a chance, called her that one night she was in town, they were better than it was. The air was tense, and he was often as tight as a live wire, but her smile, the way his name formed on her lips, and the way she laughed, made every moment with her… worth it because she was worth it. Every time.
Today is no different.
Adjusting his tie, Hop assesses himself in the full-length mirror. Gone are the childish joggers he used to wear every day. As an adult, as a professional of eighteen years, he upgraded; a black shirt, dark jeans, and his own lab coat made him look the part he tries to play, and not too shabby while doing it either. A quick run through his hair to get the right shape, and he smiles.
Now he’s ready.
Today, he had a plan to whisk Gloria off on an adventure in the parts and corners of Galar only he knew about, having stumbled upon them in his research adventures. It would be great, magical even, and if Gloria fell for him a little along the way… Well, that wouldn’t be too bad either.
Zacian barks his agreement from his resting place on his bed, and Hop grins at the legendary’s reflection. It was clear the pair wanted the same thing. Dubwool butts him lightly in the leg with his head. Correction, it was clear that all three of them wanted the same thing, if Hop could make it happen. Somehow.
“I’m off!” He tells the two pokemon, one following right behind and the other finding a comfier position on his bed.
Today, he had a plan, but it seemed none of it is going right. When he knocks on Gloria’s door he knows everything he had planned for the day just burned up in smoke with the look on her face when she answers the door. It’s in the apologetic expression, in the way her big hazelnut eyes swim with a bit of remorse a teaspoon of hesitation.
“What’s wrong?” Hop places his hand on the door, just in case.
He watches, the way she shifts from one foot to the other, the hesitation to tell him as she bites the bottom of her lip. He can see the way her thoughts roll across her mind like marbles. It takes all his willpower not to drag the words out of her. If it was bad news, she just needed to say it already, right?
“Glo?”
She looks up at him, their height difference more apparent than ever. Was she always so short? Or did she just stop growing the moment she became champion? He wasn’t sure, but the way she looked up at him made every cell in his body ache, to hold her, to comfort her, to make that expression on her face disappear.
“I think I have to cancel on our plans.” She pulls at a strand of her hair. “I mean, we can raincheck?”
Disappointment sits in his stomach, present, heavy, and there. It takes all his effort to smile, and he’s determined to smile, even if it is a small one. And somehow he manages, swallowing the dull ache caught in his through. “Did something happen? Do they need you somewhere, or?”
An explanation would be appreciated.
The conflict and turmoil in her eyes stir, twist, and overflow. Hop sees the exact moment she gives up keeping whatever it is to herself. She sighs, “Look, it’s so stupid but, I’m behind,” Gloria glances back to whatever lies behind her as she continues, “on my fan mail.”
Hop blinks, surprised. That’s it? He chuckles, relieved it’s such a simple problem, that it isn’t him, or her avoiding him, or anything to deal with a certain fairy type gym leader. This could be easily handled.
And it seemed as if Dubwool agreed. With a happy call, the pokemon pushes passed its trainer, past the champion and makes itself at home in her small cottage. Among what looked like piles and piles of letters, the fluffy pokemon calls out for the couple to join him.
“Wow Glo, you have a lot of fans don’t you?” Hop scratches the back of his head, taking in the sight as he walks in.
“They’re mostly from young up and coming trainers, asking for advice or telling me how much they admire me. Just that kind of thing, you know?” He listens as she closes the door behind her, her footsteps echoing across the worn wooden floor before she settles down in her usual spot on the couch.
He joins her, sitting opposite in his own usual spot on the couch. “I’m surprised with all these letters you haven’t got a big head already.” He teases, picking up a letter on top of the stack. The envelope illustrated Gloria’s champion pokemon team around her name.
He doesn’t have to look up to know she rolls her eyes at his remark. “Funny, the only one with a big head is you. What with all the girls who swoon over ‘Professor Hop’ whenever he’s around.”
“You jealous, Glo?” The idea thrills him.
“Of course not!” She fumbles, picking up the next letter, her eyes training hard to read the details. He could swear she’s blushing behind the white page.
Hop laughs, shaking his head. “Okay Glo, what do you need to do. What can I do to help?”
“Well,” Gloria’s eyes scan across the stacks and stacks on the table, “help me read and sort them if you can.” She points to smaller stacks he didn’t notice before. “This stack is for ones asking for advice, this one is for the drawings kids send, and this last one is the secret admirer pages.” She grins, pointing out the obvious joke of the three letters in the last stack. “When they’re all sorted, I’ll start working on the ones with return addresses.”
Hop looks at her, surprised at the level of dedication she had for her fans. From what he could remember, Lee answers fan mail when he could, but always on the go, he never set aside time for it like this. “You do a lot for them, don’t you? Your fans I mean.” He clarifies, swallows the lump in his throat before he speaks, “And besides, doesn’t your boyfriend get jealous with all those secret admirers?” He laughs, fake and hollow, waiting for the moment of truth, the other shoe to drop.
And she snorts. Leaning back into the couch cushions, Gloria crosses her arms, a small stack of letters in her hand. “Boyfriend, what boyfriend?” She arches an eyebrow at him, her eyes seeming to ask for more than that point of clarification.
He covers, recovers and quickly pulls something to say, trying his best to hide the relief and elation out of his voice as he speaks, “I mean, with how popular you are Glo, I just figured you must’ve had one. I mean with all the rumors--”
“They’re just rumors.” Gloria shakes her head and sighs, “if I had a boy… if I had someone special to me like that, wouldn’t I tell you?”
“Would you?” He challenges back, leaning forward as he makes eye contact with her.
The air is tinged with electricity and he can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand. He’s waiting for something, anything to give behind the mask she wears, the guarded expression underneath the surface of the moment. He waits for what he hopes could be a confession by her, by him.
The moment is short-lived as she breaks eye contact to stare down at the letters in her hands. “Of course I would. I just…” She trails off and Hop swears his soul is dying, waiting for what hides behind the hesitation. “We’re talking in hypotheticals. We need to get back to it.”
The two rustle papers in silence, occasionally reading out one line or another to sift through the minutes and hours between them.
When Hop comes across one letter, his jealousy burns rising up in his throat. Somehow he manages to swallow the negative feelings towards some unknown trainer and decides to take a chance.
“Hey Glo, listen to this one.” Getting her attention, Hop clears his throat, his eyes on her as he reads:
“Dear Champion Gloria,
I love you. Since long before you became our reigning champion, I’ve admired your skills as a trainer and a friend. But, I never had the courage then, or now even to tell you my feelings. You’re a star, and how could I ever catch up?
I don’t have the courage to reveal my true identity, but I just wanted to let you know, you deserve the world.
Your Secret Admirer.”
Throughout the reading, his eyes remain trained on her own, watching as the color rises up to her cheeks, a soft pink transitioning into a beet red. Each word is read carefully, conveyed with every feeling Hop shared for the girl in front of him.
And embarrassed she looks away, pushes his shoulder and mumbles for him to get back to it and stop messing around.
He laughs, obliges, grinning ear to ear because maybe there is a chance after all. Maybe he could catch up to her. And, he promises himself, glancing up at her busying form, it would be his own words she heard, and he would tell her everything.