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They’ve had a moment like this before.
It was on the Isle of Armor long before he could even call her a friend. The whirlwind of a season had just come to an end and he was barely getting his footing as a gym leader in training...only for Opal to send him off to the middle of nowhere.
He remembered being irritated. Having no sense of enjoyment on the dilapidated part of Galar. And it didn’t help that the weather was too unpredictable, or that his training regime gave him no extra challenge. He could get behind the smaller population, however the wilderness made it less than ideal.
And it’s on the beach where he and Hatterene stood one late afternoon that she found him. He didn’t expect it, to see her of all people there: Gloria, his rival, clad in an eyesore of an outfit. He’s sure he heard rumors of the Champion going off to train by herself in the middle of nowhere. But he could care less about what she was up to.
Yet she paid no mind to all of that, giving him small, but exhausted smile. And her presence was strangely warm towards him though he gave her no reason to be.
It was strange that he didn’t cast her off. Instead choosing to reminisce on what happened to lead him there and she gave him bright wishes for what was to come next all whilst the sky glowed pink and the sun set behind her.
His eyes pull away from the horizon Gloria loved to watch so much. It was strange to willingly be in the Wild Area--but it was her request for their first anniversary. His only caveat? Absolutely no camping. She agreed begrudgingly while also stating that because of his stipulation he was in charge of baking then.
She ended up helping anyways,
But as they sit on a blanket, desserts long gone, and their Pokemon chirping and playing near her set up tent, he can’t help but to be amused at the focus on her face. Her sunhat was tilted far up to not obscure her view, her brow slightly furrowed, her glasses slipping down her nose, her lips in a pout as end of her brush taps her lips before she’s back to looking at the page.
It was rather adorable.
And although he couldn’t get a look of what had her so focused, he assumed it must’ve been the view laid out in front of them. Why else would she only be looking his way ever so often?
Bede chuckles, propping his head in his left and his right reaching for her free hand. Her eyes flickering to his touch, the pink in her cheeks mirroring that of the rosy sky.
“I could’ve taken you out somewhere nice and romantic, Gloria,” he states matter-of-factly, “a nice dinner, a garden, even a library if that tickled your fancy. Why something we could see every day?”
A small hum escapes her. Her dress brushing across the fabric of the blanket as she scooted closer, the the bracelet on her wrist: his an anniversary gift to her, jingling against his skin as she interlaced their fingers while notes of jasmine and honey waft around him with the gentle breeze.
”Do you really want to know?” she asks cheekily as Bede just lifts her hand to his lips in silence.
She hands over her notebook, her head plopping against his shoulder.
“Think of it as a second gift for our anniversary.”
And it’s there he gets a close look of what she was working on so diligently.
It was a painting.
Of him.
His violet eyes vibrant, his skin detailed with the pinks of his undertone--there’s attention to things he’s sure no one would ever notice how his eyelashes had hints of darker blonde, the direction his curls were carefully placed in, and how his lips would naturally fall when he’s relaxed. He’s surrounded by the warm tones of orange and pink they currently were witnessing, whilst splashes of indigo, of purple--the hint of night sky begin to seep in at the corners.
“I know it’s not much and I need to frame it, but” she bites her bottom lip, “do you like it?”
She sounds so hopeful in her tone, her eyes seeking some sort of reaction from him.
But he’s stunned.
At not only the effort and execution, but that this is what she saw in him. Sure, he’s heard Galar announce it time and time again that he’s beautiful, charming. And Gloria was never shy to let him know that he was ethereal.
But strange was the conflict of self-hatred and pride.
And it’s overwhelming.
The feelings Gloria so effortlessly stirred up in him. The ones that not only had him reaching out for her, but that filled him with hope for himself. That someone as caring and beautiful as her saw him as something to cherish as well. And she always had a knack for causing turmoil in him, but this time these were good feelings. Ones he only wanted to experience with her.
Ones he knew he never wanted to go away.
And it’s uncouth of him to do things without thought, in many ways it’s when he’s brash and having no concern for who is on the receiving end of his sneers, but for once he thinks his response needs to be.
He’s placing the notebook to his left as he closes the distance between them. “Bede?” said softly as curiosity etches its way onto her face. He pays it no mind, effortlessly removing her sunhat as it lightly thumps on the ground. His fingers careful to caress gently down her face. Tenderly touching to cup her cheek, to keep her close to him.
His heart squeezes at how she melts into his touch, how her eyes glimmer up at him, how she doesn't ever force him to speak until he's ready. She's intuitive like that. He appreciates it.
He can't help but to look at her softly. This was the same girl he always strived to beat in battle.
But this is one battle she ultimately won--stealing his heart. Making him hers.
His forehead leans against hers for a moment. He steels himself.
And he finally speaks.
“I love it, I love you.” Breathy, whispered, and just between them. The sweetest gasp is heard before his lips swallow it. Her smile tasting reminiscent of the earl gray, of the cookies, of her--something he could never get enough of. She’s soft. She’s home. She’s the only one to ignite this in him.
She's happy, he can tell by the way her kisses change in pace, little giggles following suit. He can’t help but to chuckle back, kisses turning into light little pecks, her arms coming up around him. The weight shift throwing them off balance as his head hits the grass.
He’s glancing up at her as her hair trickles down to tickle his face.
She’s laughing, mouthing ‘are you okay?’
And for now Bede won’t mind the leaves that’ll get in his hair or the grass stains his sweater will ultimately suffer by.
“With you how can I not be?” easily pulling her down back to his lips as the sun sets behind them.