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It started with Larry.
Arven had a stop to make at the Treasure Eatery — a quick in-and-out errand that should’ve taken him 5 minutes tops. As predictable as always, the Normal-type gym leader was at the counter enjoying a warm meal and looking about as exhausted as Arven had ever seen him. Nothing out of the ordinary, except… There was something distinctly different about Larry’s wardrobe.
There was a knit scarf adorning his neck; threads of gray, silver, and charcoal wrapped comfortingly around the man’s slim frame. It was not like him at all to wear something outside of his normal suit and tie, so of course Arven had some questions.
“It’s from Juliana,” Larry answered after Arven pointed out the garment. Was that the ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth? “She made it especially for me — even got my favorite colors right.”
To say Arven was surprised would be an understatement. You gave Larry a gift? A handmade gift at that! He didn’t even know you and Larry were close. For some inexplicable reason, the idea of that annoyed him long after he left Treasure Eatery and returned to Mesagoza.
That’s when he ran into Nemona and Director Clavell, and they each were sporting brand new hats. The sight made Arven’s stomach drop with a heavy feeling he couldn’t quite place. Nemona’s hat matched the shades of her Quaquaval’s plumage and was garnished with a large white puffball while Clavell’s hat was a hip, slouch-style beanie in the school colors.
“Isn’t Miss Juliana just the kindest?” The director was gushing excitedly. “She had a whole box of hand-knit goodies for the staff members. Where does she find the energy to do such things?”
“Yeah, Jules really takes crafting seriously,” added Nemona with a fond smile. “Between Pokémon training and knitting, I honestly couldn’t say which one she likes more.”
At this point, Arven was practically seething. Okay, sure, it was the season of giving, and Juliana was not shy about expressing her love for the holidays. Maybe she just really enjoyed giving gifts? But if that were the case…
No, he couldn’t bring himself to face his own selfishness, because the fact of the matter was this: Arven was jealous. He came to that conclusion after running into Mr. Saguaro and his new neck warmer while stopping for sandwich supplies. The interaction left his right eye twitching with a mounting frustration and that’s when it all clicked into place.
As absolutely horrendous as it might be, Arven found himself unable to fight the terrible, green, all-consuming feeling. His heart was in conflict with his head, jumping back and forth from ‘I thought she was supposed to be my best friend? Wouldn’t I make her Christmas list if that were true?’ to ‘Get a grip! She doesn’t owe you anything. Why does this make you so mad?’
Arven didn’t have an answer for any of the questions bouncing around his frantic mind like an outbreak of wild Azumarill. He especially didn’t like all these negative feelings he was suddenly fighting. The haze of confusion and frustration that came with feeling jealous (plus the subsequent guilt over that fact) was enough to send him recklessly to your door. Before he could hardly get his thoughts together, his knuckles knocked loudly on the solid wood three times.
You answered with a pleasantly perplexed look on your face and Arven suddenly felt like the dumbest person alive.
“Hi, Arven! You’re,” you looked over your shoulder, presumably at a clock. “3 hours early. Or did I accidentally send you the wrong time?”
Arven’s stomach turned to stone upon hearing your words. That’s right! He had completely forgotten about your plans to hang out and try some new recipes tonight. He was such an idiot! Why did he have to make such rash decisions?
“Oh, n-no. Never mind, I’ll come back later,” he began hastily, turning to leave. “Sorry to bo—!” The words were cut short when he was pulled unceremoniously over the threshold into your little cottage.
“Nonsense!” you exclaimed, positively glowing. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”
Arven gulped under the intensity of your excitement. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Meowscarada trilled a happy greeting from where she was lounging in the living room amongst the various plants she helped you tend. A Fuecoco was snoozing happily next to her, and Arven raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“This little guy is new,” he commented, drawing closer to the pair of Pokémon. The little fire croc blinked open bleary eyes and let loose a content yawn before rolling over and falling back to sleep.
“Yeah, I’m watching him for a friend,” you called from the kitchen. “We tried making Christmas ornaments together but he kept eating the glue so we had to stop. Hot chocolate?”
Arven looked up and spotted you brandishing two mismatching mugs.
“Sure, thanks!”
He let Mabosstiff out of his Poké ball and the big mutt gave a low, happy bark at recognizing where they were. He went over sniffing by Meowscarada and the cat-like Pokémon swatted at him playfully. Arven watched them interact with a smile on his lips.
Now that he was in your presence, Arven realized how foolish he’d been before. How could he ever doubt your friendship? So what if you didn’t make him anything; you gave him and his Pokémon an abundance of your time and companionship and that was enough. Honestly, it was.
“By the way,” you started saying upon your return to the living room, handing him a mug of cocoa with heaps of whipped cream on top (just how he liked it). Sitting side by side on the couch, you nudged a festive gift bag tucked under the coffee table with your foot. “That’s for you.”
Despite his earlier revelation, relief and excitement crashed over Arven in a tremendous wave.
“R-really?! You got me a present?!”
Your resounding laugh was like tinkling bells to Arven’s ears. The way your eyes crinkled happily at the corners, the beautiful color of them shimmering with glee, was simply captivating. Though he had experienced the feeling before, it was still surprising when Arven suddenly found himself struck a little dumb by just how pretty you were.
“Of course I got you a present, Arven! You’re my best friend. Go on, open it — I’m excited to see your reaction.”
Arven gingerly grabbed the gift bag and tried to ignore the creeping guilt he felt at his earlier selfishness. He began removing the tissue paper until he reached the contents inside the bag and froze in place. Vaguely he could hear you gushing about how you could never wait until Christmas to give out presents, but your words faded into background noise when Arven laid eyes on what you had given him.
It was a button-up sweater, carefully knit in yarn that matched his Mabosstiff’s coloring. The texture of it was soft and it seemed to radiate warmth. He could easily tell there was a lot of love and care put into the workmanship, and his heart throbbed almost painfully in his chest. Pulling the garment out sent a small piece of paper fluttering into his lap. He picked it up and unfolded the little note to be met by your neat, loopy scrawl:
Arven,
May this keep you warm when I cannot
Yours always,
Jules
Words escaped him. It was like the cloudiness that darkened his skies all day cleared away and left him with one blindingly bright truth: he had feelings for you. More-than-just-a-friend feelings. Big, scary feelings that seemed to be the only thing he could focus on now.
It was so obvious! How had he not seen it earlier? That’s why he felt so jealous. It even explained the way his chest always seemed constricted in your presence, or why seeing you was always the best part of his day. So many little things suddenly seemed to click into place the more he thought about it.
Arven had fallen in love.
“…Arven?”
The questioning tone of your voice broke through his stupor and he finally looked up to meet your eyes, speechless. How long had he sat there staring?
“Do you, uhm… do you like it?”
Arven swallowed thickly. “Jules, it’s amazing.”
Your responding smile was bright and slightly relieved.
“Oh, good! I actually had a lot of fun making it. I was so excited when I found that yarn color! It’s even made locally; isn’t that cool? And every skein includes a little biography about the Pokémon they get the wool fro— oh!”
Arven stopped you mid tangent by enveloping you into a tight hug. He felt you relax into his arms and he got that constricting sensation in his chest again. He enjoyed holding you so close; it reminded him of your adventure into Area Zero together. Arven could sit and hug you forever if you’d let him.
When Arven let you go, the first thing he noticed were your cheeks flushing as red as a Tamato berry. The look on your face, the note with his sweater, the way you couldn’t quite meet his eye in that moment — it suddenly occurred to Arven that perhaps his feelings weren’t unrequited.
“Thank you, Jules, really,” Arven said after a moment of quiet contemplation. “But I have to admit something.”
He knew how bad this would make him sound, but the guilt he felt had him powering through all the same.
“I came over here because I was jealous I hadn’t gotten a gift from you.”
You blinked at him, clearly confused, but an amused little smile curled the corners of your mouth.
“Jealous?” An incredulous giggle slipped through your lips. “Why would you be…”
Before he could overthink his next moves, Arven reached out and gently cupped your cheek, effectively causing your sentence to wither up like a neglected house plant. You swallowed nervously. The look he gave you was deep and meaningful.
“Oh…”
Moving slowly, an attempt to gauge your reaction and allow you the opportunity to pull away, Arven leaned in and sweetly touched his lips to yours.
Your head was spinning, heart fluttering wildly like the wings of a Butterfree. Arven was kissing you. His lips were slightly chapped and his hands (the hands you spent far too much time thinking about ever since going into Area Zero together) were holding you as gently as if you would shatter with one wrong move.
Arven felt your lips chase his when he pulled away from the kiss and it sent his temperature rocketing through the roof. He pressed forward again and you sighed happily against his lips, melting in his embrace like snow on a Carkol. He felt his heart was full to bursting when this kiss ended and you were left gazing demurely up at him through your long lashes.
How did he get so lucky?
“Wow…” you muttered after a moment of stunned silence. “If that’s the reaction I get every time, I’ll have to start knitting you more sweaters.”
At that, Arven laughed joyously and pulled you once more into a warm hug. You nestled into him with a happy noise, burrowing under his skin and right into his heart.
Yes, Arven certainly loved you, and he had a good feeling you loved him too.