Chapter Text
The new boy Opal has found is odd.
For one, Maisie completely thought he was a girl when the old lady first brought him in, basically dragging him by the big magenta coat slung around his scrawny form. Poofs of white curly hair sticking out in a panic, the distressed look on his otherwise soft face telling her the entire story of his newly-established presence in Ballonlea without having to hear it from Lady Opal. Big, violet eyes blown from the absurdity of the situation, accessing every little detail of the surrounding scenery. The town could be quite the sight.
But maybe it’s not the town. Logically, it’s probably the fact he’s been essentially kidnapped by a strange elderly woman in broad daylight.
He’s strangely stiff, although that’s not entirely unexpected. He stands frozen in the center of the stage, the blinding spotlight closing him in and ensuring he’s always under the watchful eye of the Fairy-type gym leader who remains shrouded in the surrounding darkness. The quiet is somehow frighteningly loud, and Maisie knows the boy can feel it permeate through his body in an unforgiving echo.
Bede , Lady Opal has called him, when she’s not berating him in her usage of the nickname silly boy.
The woman seems far too enthused for how short Bede is being in his responses. He’s cooly curt and standoffish, and downright refuses to give her an answer at times, yet Lady Opal never even twitches, that excited gleam shining relentlessly in her eyes and making Maisie ponder as to how long it’s been since she’s been this hopeful.
The girl watches from the shadows of the stage, analyzing.
His cloud-like hair appears soft to the touch, a sharp contrast from the glaring personality he holds and his even sharper tongue. Its light color is nearly identical to the paleness of his skin, only making the faint flush of his perfectly rosy cheeks all the more prominent. The vivid color of his purple eyes stick out noticeably against the paler hues of his features, yet they lack a particular shine —Though that may just be the way his face is currently set in a harsh glare. Even more, they’re dotted by the length of his lashes, naturally curled and making Maisie just a little jealous.
Opal seems satisfied following a brief line of questioning and heads deeper into the darkness to “Make preparations,” as she describes it as, finally giving Bede a moment to relax. He exhales heavily like an overworked engine finally puffing out its last cough, and his tense expression settles onto the floor. He brings a hand run to run through his hair—just as soft as Maisie predicted—and the light of the glaring spotlight catches against the far-too-large watch around his wrist. A stressed signal, veiled by the elegance of his moves.
Everything he does is so… pink .
She’s far too entranced to notice the way his face tightens into a scowl once more. He shudders uncomfortably, like he feels someone’s eyes on him.
He’s perfect. His personality sure isn’t, but him? It’s no wonder Opal seemingly fell in love at first sight. He brings forth a specific light in her eyes she hasn’t seen ever in her three years knowing her. If she wasn’t in utter awe herself, Maisie might feel a little deflated over the fact.
Bede grits his teeth, shoulders tensing as they raise in an instinctual defensive motion. Then he jerks his head to the side, feeling the burning of her gaze.
Even with that perpetual glare, his features remain so clean, so flawless. Perfection personified, condensed into the appearance of a short-tempered boy with endless potential. Truly befitting of the future Fairy gym leader.
His fighters tighten by his sides, as if staring back will make her stop . It doesn’t
The mannerisms he carries himself with, standing tall and proud despise the scrutiny of the stage. Aside from his appearance in looks, he regards himself in a strong yet somehow strained manner. Like he’s holding himself back, like the faint twitching of his hands read something other than irritation. A mystery to be dissected under her watchful gaze—
“What are you looking at?!” Bede finally barks, caving under the weight of her unwavering stare.
Maisie doesn’t flinch much save for a quick jolt. She simply blinks, her expression still reading the awe as she looks him up and down a moment longer.
“You’re really pretty.”
Bede’s flawless face gapes at her, brows knitting together despite the way his eyes widen. His jaw drops, speechless in flustered horror. “Wha—?!”
Opal waltzes back in, carrying what seems like centuries worth of files and manilla folders. The faintest sound of her struggle alerts Maisie and breaks her from her trance, and like she’s an entirely different person, she jumps from the stage to help Lady Opal like the useful assistant she prides herself as being.
“Silly boy,” Lady Opal chides when she sees the ridiculous look on her newest apprentice's face. Or rather, the lack thereof, as Bede brings the large collar of that big old jacket up to hide his reddening expression under the blaring pressure of the spotlight. “What’s with the unflattering face?”
Maisie looks at him too, following Opal’s gaze, and this time Bede really turns away. Between the unrelenting attention of the stage light shining down on him and her gaze , Bede would happily pick the former at a moment’s notice.