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Looking at her like this was like looking at a tree bearing perfect fruit after years of barren branches. Fitting.
He’d watched, coveted, planned, toyed with her for… How long now? It didn’t really matter, in the end.
Because in the end, she was his, like all perfect things should be.
The last orders bloomed from his mouth like they only bloom from men who could be kinds, from leaders, and his executives saluted and left. She looked up at him with those wide eyes, not so innocent any more but just as playful. “I like it when you get commanding,” she giggled, and leant up from where she sat on his knee to kiss him, trace the line of his jaw with her soft lips, and he felt more powerful than ever, the little red ‘R’ pin gleaming on her hat like a brand.
Once she stood across from him, fist clenched tight and flawless voice swearing to topple his empire. Now she is its crown jewel, jaded but not tarnished, swayed but not broken, corrupted but not ruined.
That was the most beautiful part of what he had done. He hadn’t forced her: she had come to him when the time had came. After all, she was one of three; one the Champion now, alone on a frosty mountain to defend his title against those brave enough to scale the silver slopes for it; the second his successor, the Leader of Viridian, an oddity among Leaders for his erratic team but wielder of the Earth Badge nonetheless; and then her.
Where, he had asked her (and later she demanded of him) was her fame? HER recognition? HER praise? It was not to be had. And he extended one hand and offered her a new path, one that she’d never considered: fame only lasts while you’re famous, after all, but infamy? Infamy lasts forever.
He leant back in his seat, closing his eyes as he let himself bask in her warmth against his solid chest and her soft voice praising his love of her, his love of all beautiful things. Just as it should be.