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The Unovan Champion sighed as the photographer once again started going off on some sort of tangent to his assistant. She looked to Cilan, ready to apologize once more.
The entire day had been filled with arguments between the photographer and his assistant. First it was the lighting. Then it was the scenery. Then it was the lighting again. It went in circles for hours, and Iris was getting sick of it.
The most annoying part, however, was that she still didn’t understand why any of the pictures were necessary. Training was necessary. Taking on challengers was necessary. Statements to the press were sometimes necessary.
Taking pictures in Nimbasa City with one of her friends didn’t seem necessary. Her team of miscellaneous staff that came with the championship—whose names she had still yet to learn because there were too many of them—assured her they were very necessary. Something about having a good public image.
Her response of, “Taking care of the region is far more important than taking pictures with a friend, in my opinion,” won her no favors.
“Unfortunately,” Cilan began trying to make light of the situation, “I don’t know what they’re arguing about this time. His accent from whatever part of Kalos he is from is really getting in the way.”
She snorted a laugh at that. At the very least, she was thrilled that Cilan had a basic understanding of French. Without him, the evening would have been at least twelve times worse since the photographer would continuously forget he was no longer speaking in English.
“Think he’d get mad if we just walked away?” She asked.
“He’d probably be furious,” Cilan concluded, withholding a laugh.
The sound of shoes clicking away grabbed his attention. Looking to where Iris had been standing, she was no longer there. “I’m taking five,” she said, throwing him a look over her shoulder.
As tempting as it was to stand and listen to two Kalosian men argue with one another, getting away for a few minutes was far more tempting.
Walking down the street that had been closed off for her, the two walked beside one another, listening in to the music of the nearby venus.
“I don’t know why Alder never told me about all of this nonsense,” She grumbled, coming to a stop once the ferris wheel was in sight.
“I’m willing to say Alder didn’t have to deal with this much publicity. It probably has to do with you being such a new champion.”
She shrugged, listening in to the music from a restaurant across the row of plants. The music was live, and the sound of an acoustic guitar carried through the evening air. “He was champion for like, what, over 30 years?” She asked.
He nodded. “I have faith things will settle down for you soon. Now that it’s getting close to summer, more trainers will be out, and I’m sure you’ll start getting a steady flow of challengers.”
She looked to him to respond, but stopped when she heard her name being distantly called. She sighed, leaning forward, ready to bury her face in his shirt. “No,” she grumbled.
She felt his laugh against her ear as he put his hands on her arms. Bringing her away from him, he tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Hopefully we’ll be done, soon,” he told her.
The two listened for her name again, but didn’t hear it. “Hopefully he’s looking the wrong way,” she joked, keeping her attention on him.
He laughed in response. His hands trailed down her hers, keeping a light and careful grip. “The longer you wait to go back, the longer this photoshoot lasts,” he reminded her.
She hummed in response, her mind clearly elsewhere.
The song that dominated the night air filled her with a wonderful sense of calm. After all the stress of the day, it was nice to just be away from it all, and have a few moments with Cilan all to herself.
He watched as she slowly began to pull him into some sort of dance. It resembled a waltz, and so he was able to lead into that.
Their waltz ebbed and flowed from formal to informal. Sometimes she would want to be spun around at impromptu moments, and while happy to oblige, it did make keeping up with the rhythm of the song difficult. Though, seeing her smile so brightly for the first time that day made it all worthwhile.
The song eventually faded, and the two came to a stop.
The two kept their eyes on one another, searching for something to say.
Iris broke their silence with a small laugh, leaning into him once more. “What are we doing?” She asked.
“Waltzing,” he simply answered, keeping their movement going, but on a much smaller scale.
“Probably not even supposed to waltz to that song, huh?” She asked, looking back up at him again.
“I wouldn’t say that. We made it work, didn’t we?” He reminded her with a gentle smile.
She shrugged. Taking her hand out of his, she wrapped her arms around his torso, bringing their dance to a stop. A small sigh passed her lips when she felt his arms around her. It had been months since they last got to see one another, and she had almost forgotten what it was like to have his arms around her.
“Thanks for doing this, today,” she spoke.
“It’s my pleasure. Considering how long it’s been since you and I saw one another, I wouldn’t dare pass this up,” He told her. The last time they had seen one another was briefly during her inauguration. He hadn’t had the strength then to tell her all the things he needed to say, and maybe even now he still lacked it, but having a moment of intimacy with her more than made up for it.
She leaned away, tilting her head up at him, barely a breath apart from one another.
His name was poised at the edge of her lips, but the sound of a camera shutter silenced her.
“Perfect!”
The voice of her photographer caused her to jump, stumbling back a few steps from Cilan.
“That’s a wrap madam champion! These pictures capture you and your boyfriend perfectly!” He said, staring at the back of his camera.
Heat creeped its way up her neck. “Oh, um,” she nervously began, watching as the two photographers approached her. “Cilan and I aren’t, um, dating,” she said, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
Silence, soon followed by a low groan, greeted her.
The assistant said a few things to the photographer, and the two proceeded to argue, running back to their bags to search for whatever papers they were looking for.
Cilan swallowed hard. “I’m sure you don’t need my translation, but they got the assignment wrong,” he told her.
She rolled her eyes, still avoiding looking directly at Cilan.
Moments later, the photographer’s assistant returned. “I beg your forgiveness, madam champion, but we’re going to have to do this again tomorrow.” After a few more minutes of apologies and figuring out what time to meet again, the photographer finally released her and Cilan for the night.
“I’m so sorry you’re bring dragged into this for a second round,” she apologized.
“It’s alright, I promise.” He wasn’t about to complain about seeing her a second day in a row. “How about you and I meet early for breakfast? My treat,” he offered.
Finally, she looked at him again, heat still lingering on her neck. “I’d love that,” she said with a smile.