Work Text:
“...And then he goes, ‘Too bad you didn’t make the cut, Carmine ’.”
Carmine flaunted her best attempt at apathetic mockery as she aimlessly followed her best friend around, suave, slouched posture and all. “I mean, what kind of move was that?! He was practically trying to humiliate me.” She grit her teeth.
Amarys looked up from her assignment, one eyebrow lifting in dry amusement.
“AND THEN,” Carmine boomed, pausing to summon more air in her lungs.
Amarys suppressed a sigh. It was always a different story each day, but the key takeaways of the script repeated like clockwork. “Did you call him a ‘bozo’ again?”
“HE HAD THE NERVE TO ACT LIKE HE WAS ASKING JULIANA OUT ON A DATE-”
Carmine paused as she met Amarys’s gaze, blinking away her irritation. “What?”
“Nothing.” Amarys replied flatly.
“No, say it!” Carmine nearly begged. It was the first bit of feedback she’d gotten during her ranting in awhile. “What did you say?!” She leaned in and nearly toppled over the League Room table, which inadvertently threatened to knock Amarys’s notebooks off. It earned only the faintest twitch from the unshakable Steel-type specialist. “What, you don’t think I could be an Elite Four member?”
“I think it would be possible, if you put your mind to it.”
Carmine scoffed, crossing her arms. “He practically said the same thing.”
Amarys turned back to her work. “Well that was nice of him.”
“Oh come on, he didn’t mean it!” Carmine roared, fists clenching to her chests. “You know, he’s gotten a lot more slimy lately. And I don’t want him getting all chummy with Juliana, either. He’s up to something. Did he tell you anything?”
Amarys tilted back against her chair and let out a rare groan. Her eyes closed in wonder for a moment, and Carmine attempted to settle down in her own seat. Her pointer finger mindlessly tapped against her thumbnail in anticipation.
“You said Juliana’s a strong trainer, right?”
“She’s a Champion in her home region.” Carmine clarified.
Amarys neatly folded her hands as she snapped back to attention. “Then that pretty much confirms it.”
A helpless noise escaped Carmine. A beat passed between the two, and Amarys revealed her hypothesis to her desperate friend who apparently was incapable of focused thought any time the Dragon trainer came up.
“He is likely attempting to utilize Juliana to dethrone your brother.”
“WHAT?!” Carmine suddenly burst. Her volume didn’t faze Amarys in the slightest, but it did carry loud enough to turn heads in the hallway outside - thanks to the propped, wide-open door she hadn’t bothered to close before her monologue.
Her anger built at a rapid rate, and she clawed for the pettiest, most poisonous words in her immediate arsenal. “That conniving, two-faced, bugs-for-brains, manipulative moron! He’s actually trying to puppet Juliana into snatching Kieran’s rank?! He always acts like he’s above it all - like we’re all just these chess pieces he can sit back and play with when he’s bored. And then he has the nerve to imply that I don’t work hard enough.”
Amarys straightened herself and her eyes mindlessly wandered around the room she had all but blocked out between Carmine and her assignment. When she peered straight ahead, she immediately straightened. “Carmine -”
Carmine registered a hand waving for her attention as she crossed her arms and stormed a few paces closer to the bulletin board. She fixated on her fury.
“Maybe if he spent less time playing puppet master and more time actually working on himself, he’d get something done for once. But no, he has to run around with his stupid, smug face-”
“Should I be flattered or concerned that I’m the star of your meltdown?”
Carmine’s chest lightly sputtered in surprise from the cool callout, and she spun on her heel to face the subject of her prattling: Drayton.
He had been leaning against the doorway quite comfortably, casually relaxing with his hands in his pockets. His mouth curved into his signature half-smirk - cool, unreadable, and certainly as smug as ever. His eyes flicked lazily between her and Amarys like he was only half-invested in what she’d said.
“Miss me?” He taunted, content with baiting her attention. He kept his words light, but beneath the practiced calm, something in his jaw was a little too tight.
He had been there for longer than either of the girls knew.
“Y-You…!” Carmine’s face burned with the embarrassment of being caught, and she dressed herself with the indignation of doubling down. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a battle or something?! Don’t you have another challenger?!”
Drayton’s posture stayed perfectly in place, but his expression sharpened. “They lost.”
“Oh,” Amarys blurted, somewhat caught off guard. “That trainer was relatively exceptional. Oh well.”
Carmine grunted in response. With the exception of her brother, no other trainer has made it past him. Today’s outcome wasn’t surprising, but it was fast. She tensed up as he slowly sauntered over.
It was difficult for her to guess what he was thinking. “What’s got me living in your head rent-free today?” He asked.
“I couldn’t care less about you, ” she spat, successfully chipping away at some of his gloatful expression. “I’m thinking about Kiki. Amarys is right, isn’t she? You’re trying to sabotage him.”
Drayton rolled his eyes. “Oh no, how dare I hold the precious Champion to actual Champion standards.”
Carmine scoffed. “How is setting Juliana up to take him down accomplishing anything?! You’re just playing games!”
“It’s not a game to me,” Drayton retorted. “I’m just giving a responsibility he clearly can’t handle right now to someone who can.”
Carmine’s temper flared. “And you think this is better than talking to him? You don’t even care about how this’ll affect him!”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “And you think running your mouth about me to everyone else is better than just asking me what I’m doing?”
Carmine’s head jerked back at the jab. Heat began to creep up her neck while her legs began to sink. “Don’t act like you know what’s best for my brother,” she deflected. “And stop acting like you’re above everyone else.”
Drayton ignored her comments, narrowing in his gaze. “Is that what you really think of me?”
“Why would you even care?” she shot back.
His gaze briefly held her and he took a moment to memorize her face before he said what he couldn’t take back. He just wished she didn’t look so pained.
“I thought you knew me better than that,” he remarked lowly.
Carmine faltered, but only for a heartbeat. Her volume lowered down with his. “Well, maybe I was wrong.”
An icy leer shot back at her. “If I’m that wrong in your eyes, then so is your way of dealing with Kieran.”
Carmine’s nails dug into her palms as she struggled to think of a rebuttal. Her mind attempted to scan through the possibilities of quips and quick remarks, but the shift in Drayton’s tone had brought too many brutal realities to her plate:
Kieran wasn’t eating or sleeping, but instead lashed out on anyone around him.
He was more battle-obsessed and agitated by the day.
He swatted away her hand each and every time she tried to place it on her shoulder, and her heart spilt more each and every time she heard a ‘Shut it, sis.’
She eyed the floor, and uncontrollable tears welled in the wake of her worry.
Drayton was going to tear her brother down and use one of their other friends to do it.
He’d crossed every line that mattered and acted like it was nothing. Like people were just pieces to move around until they broke.
And even now, he could look her in the eye, know he was hurting her, and still keep that calm, unshakable stare.
She thought of all the times he would tease, and how much it would get into her stupid head whenever he seemed to direct his banter specifically at her. His hearty laugh and otherwise non-threatening, relaxed attitude. How - at one point in time - she’d secretly believed he was much kinder underneath all his ruses, teaching her little brother tips and tricks when he wasn’t yet out of his shell. But now, after all of his successive choices since he lost his Champion title? She could only conclude one thing.
She was wrong about him.
“You’re…such a cruel person,” she managed.
That comment perked Amarys attention, who was now recognizing that this exchange wasn’t taking the course of their usual banter. This was going too far. “Carmine, I recognize you are frustrated but you certainly don’t mean that.”
Carmine didn’t care if her tears were showing - she’d wear them proudly as she clung onto spite to eye him down.
“Yes I do,” she retaliated, now cursing him with a mean look.
The Steel-type specialist glanced over at the other Elite Four member when it was apparent that her words were falling on deaf ears. But he, too, was too focused on the person in front of him.
Carmine’s heart was spinning as much as her head, but she knew her words were necessary. A twisted, masochist part of her still held a level of fondness - in spite of everything - and that mistake only continued to burn her. Even now, he had trapped her stomach in a pit of guilt. So she kept them brief.
“I don’t want to be around you anymore. Don’t talk to me. Don’t be in the same room as me. Don’t even look at me. And leave my brother and Juliana alone.”
Drayton’s eyes widened ever so briefly before he closed them and sighed. He suddenly stopped slouching, and her pulse shot to her ears as he towered over her.
His tone was dark and cold. “Okay. But I can’t promise that last part.”
A tear rolled down Carmine’s cheek as his words twisted into something sharp in her chest. She couldn’t believe that even after everything she’d said, he wouldn’t respect her, her family, or the one line she’d begged him not to cross.
Her throat tightened. Of course he wouldn’t. He never listened unless it served him.
Without another word, she darted past the unforgiving and distant force that faced her, losing herself to the shaky haze that was her haphazard sprint. She pushed past the doorway and didn’t look back.
After hovering in the aftermath, Drayton silently walked past Amarys, who had undoubtedly been staring with concern.
“You’re not…going to go after her?” Amarys questioned carefully.
“She just said she didn’t want me to.” His words were more downcast than he intended.
“She’s upset. People usually say things they don’t mean when they’re upset. Especially people like Carmine.”
“Yeah, well… she seemed pretty sure this time.” He let out a humorless breath and glanced toward the counter, completely forgetting why he had come to the League Room in the first place. He had just seen the fiery girl, and didn’t give it a second thought.
“I will talk to her later.” Amarys affirmed. “Perhaps you should get some rest.”
Drayton’s shoulders rose and fell in the best half-shrug he could muster. “Meh, I don’t think you need to. If she needs space, she can have it.”
Drayton turned to face Amarys as he felt her studying him. “You know,” she began, “Your method with Kieran might be logical, but it’s not exactly easy on her. It might be better if you involve her instead.”
Drayton’s gaze flicked back to the doorway. "I’m not here to make things easy - I’m here to make them work. The whole school is suffering.”
“And you’re fine with her thinking the worst of you?”
Drayton’s mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Seems like she already does.” His tone stayed even, but there was a faint roughness underneath. “She can't exactly think less of me than that.”
Amarys looked down to her mechanical pencil she had been using and gave it a press. She allowed the silence to permeate the room as she deliberated on whether or not to share her observations with Drayton.
I f only he knew - she had cared for him far more than she’d even admit to herself.
As if stirred by the shrill of her grating scream, her legs finally obeyed her terror and moved.
It was a blind, valiant effort. A pivot that broke her freeze. A speed and caliber she couldn’t quite imagine being capable of, nor summon on any other day.
Her uneven cry became entangled with the ragged hair that engulfed her vision, clinging to her petrified face. Her klutzy feet haphazardly stomped around in her frenzy, barely managing to jerk herself away from an unexpected meeting with the floor. In search of grace, her hand reached out and gripped the doorknob to her room much like how a Sprigatito would grip a ball of yarn.
And like a complete fool, she dared - dared - to glance backwards to her belongings on the beat of her breath.
She had only managed to catch a glimpse of its hairy, neon tendrils scurrying in the direction of her bed.
“NO!” Carmine blurted irately. “NOT MY BED! ANYWHERE BUT THERE!”
Her cries turned to helpless whimpers as the creature all but complied with her pleas.
“Oh no, no, no no, no,” she breathed rapidly, “This is not happening! This is NOT!” Her wobbly legs danced between moving forward to investigate, while her instincts kept her glued near the door. She let out another disgusted squeal and leapt forward to her desk for her phone and immediately darted back, fingers furiously flying to for an SOS text:
Carmine: GUYS. GUYS.
Carmine: WHO IS AWAKE
Carmine: IM NOT OKAY
Carmine: THIS IS A CODE FUCKING RED
Carmine: THERE IS A MONSTER IN MY ROOM
Carmine: LIKE NOT A LITTLE MONSTER. A DEMON
Carmine: WITH LEGS
Carmine: LIKE 14 OF THEM I SWEAR I DIDN’T EVEN COUNT RIGHT IT HAD TOO MANY
Carmine: ITS A DEMON WIITH LEGS AND IT S AFTEHG MY BED I NEED HELPS OMEONE PLS COME RN
Carmine: THIS ISN’T A JLKE IM SERIOUS
Carmine: OH ARCEUS I LOST TRACK OF IT
Carmine: WHERE DID IT GO WHERE DIS D IT GOOOOO
Carmine nearly began to tremble as she sent text after text with no immediate hero coming to the rescue. Where was Amarys when you needed her?! She was always a night owl.
She took a powerful gulp and began to record a voice message, if only to convince herself she wasn’t alone in spirit.
“Okay. Okay. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna be brave. This is me being brave. I’m kneeling. I’m getting down on the floor like a complete idiot and I’m gonna look under the desk because I’m not gonna let a bug evict me from my own room. And it’s totally there right?! I only have so much space in here. Eh..hehe…he.”
Her nervous laugh was unconvincing, and a smile betrayed her sorrows as she grasped to fathom her ridiculous situation.
“...Okay,” she said much more calmly, “I’m going down on the ground. I’m DOWN on the ground, and I’m peeking…Uhh, so I don’t think it’s-”
Carmine let out a blood-curdling shrill as she was met face-to-face with four luminescent, baby blue pupils that retreated to the shadowy underdepths that was between her desk and the corner of the wall.
“It’s THERE. It’s BY THE DESK LEG. OH GOD IT ACTUALLY KNEW I WAS HERE. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE HELP ME PLEASE ANYONE AT ALL THIS IS NOT A JOKE I SERIOUSLY NEED SOMEBODY TO HELPPPPP!
OH MY ARCEUS IT MOVED AGAIN
ITS MOVING. IT’S MOVING TORWA-!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”
Carmine threw her phone back as her field of vision became encased by a stringed neon light. Her arms flung to shield her face, but quickly jerked back and curled when they brushed up against a silky substance. Her eyes remained sealed shut as a deeper level of panic set in. Her breathing was progressively more sharp and uneven as tears sprang hot to her eyes.
Her shriek ripped through the air, raw and unrestrained. The next breath caught in her throat, her chest locking in place as if the sound had startled even her own lungs. The silk clung tighter around her skin, each thread a mocking tether to her helplessness.
And then a graze as light as a feather skimmed her cheek.
Carmine’s gutteral scream tore loose again, and she flinched so violently her shoulder smacked the wall.
“Hey, hey woah!”
Her knees curled tighter into her chest out of a defense reflex that only broke momentarily as she registered the gasp.
Not the skitter of tiny legs. Not the crackle of webbing. A human gasp.
Her lashes fluttered open on instinct, and the first thing she caught was the narrow gleam of gold that only seemed to focus more intently on her. Her gaze traced upward before she could stop herself: to the messy, winter spikes catching stray slants of light, to the wrist that flicked back slightly as it reached towards her, to the slightly parted lips she would otherwise expect to be crooked into a smirk.
The sight made her slip up on her words. “I-I’m fine, I-!”
For a heartbeat, she almost thought she was imagining things. She hadn’t seen him in days, and the last time they spoke had ended in a fight that still sat like a splinter under her skin.
“Hold still,” Drayton softly commanded.
Her eyes squeezed shut as his touch approached her once more.
From this close, every tremor in Carmine’s breathing seemed louder than the buzz of the lights overhead. He could see the way her lashes squeezed together, wet with tears, and the streaks they’d carved down her flushed cheeks. His fingers found the edge of the silk clinging under jaw, and he began to peel the strands back from where it had encased in her bangs. He moved carefully, hushing any callousness as he slowly picked away at the web. He could have done it in seconds, but her wide-eyed, cornered look had lodged under his skin, urging a kind of caution he didn’t usually bother with. He had thought he would be able to look at her like this any more - let alone bear witness to a state he had never seen before.
His shadow swallowed her as he leaned in closer, tugging away each glowing strand until it came free. “Was it a Joltik?”
The sheepish, blaring obvious question was met with two tiny nods.
“You’re afraid of Joltiks.” He posed his question as a statement as he dusted the web into her trash can.
More tiny nods of confirmation.
The gesture melted him, and a soft chuckle escaped him. “Carmine, those little critters are harmless. It’s probably more scared of you than you are of it.”
She shifted, trying to salvage the last shreds of her dignity as her gaze retreated to the floor. “Why… why are you even here?” She managed between horrendous sniffles.
“The group text.” A dry, almost curt reply.
A jolt ran through her as she connected the dots. Of course. She had been so rash with her decisions that she had automatically defaulted to the chat with all of the Elite Four…including Drayton, the one person in the whole school she had declared ex-communication with. And she had practically documented every gross glory of her shame, with each message being more unhinged than the last.
Of course he’d seen them. Of course he’d be the only one awake to hear them. And of course , he’d come.
Her chest tightened. He was going to make fun of her, or hold this over her head, or something even worse she couldn’t fathom. She could feel it coming.
But instead, his hand moved before she could think to flinch, brushing under one eye with the gentlest pass of his thumb. The gesture lingered just enough for her to feel the warmth in it before he traced away the second tear.
Their eyes met, almost hesitantly, before gradually settling into a mutually held gaze. It had almost felt improper to stare, to let the weight of an unspoken intensity boil, free from the restraint of echoless quips and quarrels.
“Do you…want me to leave?” he asked softly.
He hoped the answer would be no, and was selfish enough to leave his hand on her face. He braced himself as she inhaled and broke her eyes away, the chalking rosiness in her cheeks fading as-
“AHH ITS RIGHT THERE, IT’S RIGHT THERE!” she shrieked, voice cracking into panic.
Drayton yelped as she grabbed at his shoulders and started shaking him hard enough to rattle his balance. “Where?!” He blurted.
“Over there!” She squealed, eyeing the pokemon loitering near her bed, practically taunting her with its oh-so-docile demeanor.
Drayton turned his body. “Aww, it’s-”
The grip moved to one of his arms and squeezed. “GO, GO TAKE CARE OF IT!”
Drayton froze for half a beat, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Oh. Oh no. He should be good about this. It would be stupid to not be good about this.
He tilted his head just enough to catch her cowering more against the back of his shoulder, ducking low like he was her human shield. “Y’know, they only crawl out like this when they’re looking for something to cling to.”
A muffled ‘What?!’ buzzed against him.
“Yeah, they’re all over Unova,” he drawled, drumming up a chilled whisper, “once they pick someone, they just… hang on . Clothes, hair…sometimes your face if you’re lucky.
“NOW, DRAYTON! I mean it - don’t just stand there like you have half a brain! It’s gonna crawl somewhere and make a bunch of babies and they’re gonna multiply and take over this room and-!”
Her words were tumbling over themselves, breaking into half-gasps and jittery blubbers as she alternated between pushing him toward the bed and yanking him back like she couldn’t decide if she wanted him closer to it or further away from her.
He started laughing, shoulders shaking with it, which only made her more frenzied.
“This isn’t funny! Go deal with it before it jumps and breaks the ceiling!!”
Oh, she was all flustered and needy, and he was eating it up. He slacked himself as she crazily pushed him back and forth, and got a few more bellows in.
“Alright, alright,” he said, lightly patting her head just to watch her splutter even more. “But you have to let go of me so I can get to it first.”
Heat flashed across Carmine’s face, and she quickly pried her hands off of the idiot in sparkling tinfoil posing as her knight in shining armor. She retreated her face into her hands, but immediately created an opening between her eyes, knowing it was better to look even if she didn’t want to.
Drayton strolled over to the bed, crouching down. “Huh. Don’t see it anymore.”
“What?!” She blurted “Y-You were supposed to be watching!”
“I was too focused on you.”
The words landed like a spark. Her brain tripped over itself, flooding her with questions.
What does that mean? Why would he say that? Did it mean what she thinks it meant? Is she hearing things? He would NEVER, right?! He can’t just say that.
She meekly shrunk into herself.
Drayton, on the other hand, felt the tiniest hitch in his stomach - one he buried under the faintest raise of his brows. Smooth, idiot. Real smooth. He wasn’t even thinking when he said that. He wasn’t going to take it back, though - that wasn’t his style. Instead, he let it hang there, pretending as if nothing had happened as he put forth actual effort into looking for the little rascal of a pokemon.
He searched under the bed. Nothing. Checked the nightstand, and even moved around her desk and chair. Nothing. It had to have been at least twenty minutes of shuffling around at the full mercy of the noisily girls cries before he tossed in the towel.
“I think it got away.” He concluded, raising his arms out.
The nonchalance prickled her. “How could it get away?! It has to be in here, the only way out is this door!”
“Maybe it crawled right past you when you were bossing me around,” Drayton snickered, now rotating his upper body back and forth.
“I would’ve seen it!” She boldly declared, yet that confidence withered away as she imagined such a thing happening despite her quite literally having her back up against it. She felt color drain from her face.
Drayton finished his stretching with a light yawn. “Well it’s getting late, and even I don’t stay up too much later than this, ya’ know. Need my beauty sleep and all that.”
Carmine shot up and blocked the closed door, although that didn’t seem to stop Drayton from approaching. “You can’t just leave me here!”
“Just call me if it comes back,” he murmured. Something felt lighter in his chest to remember that she didn’t block his number, apparently.
Drayton slowed to a halt as Carmine stayed rooted in place, her arms now spreading out against the door behind her in a defensive position. His eyes flicking from her puffy glare to the handle behind her waist. For a second, she thought he might just reach for it, but he had locked eyes with her once more.
And the gleam in his bordered on dangerous.
‘“You know,” he drawled, voice dipping to a low lilt, “I could just pick you up and move you.”
Her stomach did a strange, traitorous flip. “Don’t you dare.”
“Then move.”
“No.”
The corner of his mouth ticked upward, but there was something more devious in his expression than she was used to. He leaned forward and closed some space, with one of his hands braced against the door behind her, and the other threatening to sneak around her.
Her pulse spiked. He wasn’t actually going to…was he?
He tilted his head down, meeting her eyes with infuriating patience. “Your choice, princess.”
Her chin lifted in quiet defiance, but she didn’t move. The space between them seemed to shrink, and it stirred up that same unspoken pull she had felt with him before. She was determined not to be the one who looked away.
“Alright then.”
“Wha-?! DRAYTON!” she yelped, clutching at his shoulders as her feet left the ground.
He spun her around in a swift, dizzying motion, which rewarded him with another startled squeal. She barely had time to register the bed coming into view before her vocal chords drummed up again.
“DRAYTON!”
She couldn’t believe this.
Her back was pressed to the steady breadth of his arm, and the other hooked firmly under her knees. It was ridiculous …and, traitorously, a little fun. She didn’t know if she wanted him to put her down or keep her there.
And that feeling had nothing to do with the lingering Joltik.
“There’s that smile,” he teased. “Finally came out, huh?”
Carmine shielded a laugh with her best grimace. She felt herself being pulled down, and cocked her head.
“DO NOT PUT ME THERE - DO NOT!” she blurted, tightening her grip on him. “THAT’S WHERE IT IS!”
Drayton’s brow arched, and the smug edge in his grin only deepened. “Oh? You mean right here?” he asked, feinting as if to set her down at the foot of the bed.
Her legs curled up instinctively, and she let out another flustered sound. “STOP! I’m serious!”
“Then enjoy the view,” he taunted before abruptly letting go.
Carmine yelled his name as she plopped down and bounced on the firm bed below her. She began to flail and scrambled off the side hastily. “It’s in here! You’re trying to feed me to it!”
“Eh, I’m sure you’ll make a great snack,” he quipped, already pivoting toward the door.
“Don’t you dare!” She lunged after him, catching his arm. The pull dragged her right down to the floor with a graceless thud, but she refused to let go.
He twisted halfway toward her, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. He had never, EVER seen her this desperate and clingy. “What is this, your last stand?”
“You are NOT leaving me in here!” she blurted, clinging tighter.
He tried to shake her off, but she dropped and latched onto his leg for good measure.
“Carmine, seriously?” He blurted, dumbfounded. Why were his cheeks feeling hot?
“YOU STARTED THIS, YOU FIX IT!!” she fired back as her hair became a messy curtain over her face.
“Or what?” he baited.
“I’M NOT LETTING GO!” She wailed, now locking in with full fury.
Drayton felt a sudden knot in his stomach unravelling. For most people, that would mean raising a white flag. But for him?
A devious charm plastered on his face. “Well buckle up, because we’re going to my room.”
Carmine’s cheeks began to simmer crimson red, and without thinking, she broke composure and looked up at him. “WE ARE ABSOLUTELY NOT!”
Drayton began dragging the leg she had attached herself to, making very little progress across the room while she began to scream again. “Lemme guess, it's scandalous to go into a boy’s room?”
She momentarily stopped her protesting. “Obviously, you BONEHEAD!”
The insult made his heart sing, and his chest felt much lighter than it had been in the past few days. Something was definitely wrong with him.
Drayton only grinned, shifting his weight just enough to make her awkwardly scoot with him as he dragged her across the floor inch by inch.
“Alright, your highness, you’ve got two choices,” he said, voice dripping with mock seriousness. “You either risk getting cooties from a boy’s room,” Drayton wiggled his fingers for dramatic effect as he scrunched his face, “...or you stay here with your new fuzzy roommate.”
Her outbursts became borderline bratty, and she didn’t care. “WAHHH, DRAYTON! YOU’RE BEING UNFAIR!”
“Unfair? Nah, I’m just giving you options. They’re both just terrible.”
Carmine ceased her whining to glance up at the Dragon specialist looming over her, who wore an unsettling, insincere smile that was deserving of a sucker punch.
Why was she even pushing this far with him? She didn’t know. She just couldn’t stop. Something about the way he stood there: lazy, unbothered, maddening …it all made her want to dig her heels in harder.
“Fine,” she huffed, “we’ll just go to the League Room, then.”
Drayton shrugged, already turning like it was a done deal. “Probably better.”
Her grip around him slacked, and her shoulders sank down. “Okay, good, so let’s-”
“Have fun.” Drayton interrupted.
Her jaw dropped, and she looked at him like he broke her Sinistcha’s teacup. “…What?”
Drayton’s false smile didn’t falter. “This is a you thing. I have a date with my bed.”
Her pulse spiked. “You-! I JUST SAID YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME ALONE FOR THE NIGHT!”
“And I just said I’m going to bed,” he repeated mindlessly, now turning for the door again.
“Wait wait WAIT!” She blabbed, frantically trying to grab hold of him as he pushed forward. “If you stay with me, I’ll forgive you for everything ! I’ll- OW!”
Drayton froze mid-stride after squishing something with his shoe. He glanced down to find a mess of a girl cradling a reddened hand. “Did I-?”
“Yes, you stepped on me, you oaf! ” She whined, tears now coming back in full force.
Welp, he wasn’t winning this one.
Drayton exhaled and turned to crouch down until he was eye-level with the hot-headed girl. She shut her mouth and winced as he took hold of the stinging hand and began inspecting the back of her palm. “Drama queen,” he muttered, encasing it with both hands.
“I am not -” Her protest cut short when he suddenly lifted her hand to his mouth and softly placed his lips on the point of impact.
Warmth bloomed across her skin, sinking into her palm like a slow, dangerous tide. Her fingers twitched against his, and her breath caught before she could stop it.
This was Drayton - Drayton - whose usual “affection” came in the form of smug grins and aggravating one-liners, not gestures that made her heart do laps and her chest feel too tight. She couldn’t even look at him without feeling her stomach dip, so she stared stubbornly at the floor instead, as if that could quiet the dizzy flurry clawing its way up her ribs. She felt a cold surge etched to her beating skin when he had finally pulled back.
“Fine,” he murmured, still close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. “But we’re going to my room so we can sleep, okay?”
The tone he used must’ve been the gentlest thing she’s ever heard. And for some reason, that made every neuron in her brain capable of throwing a fit self-destruct.
“O-Okay,” she stammered.
Drayton blinked, taken aback by the sudden disarmament. Wait.
Was he imagining something, or…?
He tilted his head and softened his gaze, letting it linger on her just long enough to see if she’d squirm. Sure enough, her eyes darted away rapidly while her shoulders were tightening like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. As if the flush deepening across her cheeks wasn’t enough to confirm his suspicion.
Drayton involuntarily huffed out a laugh as he couldn’t help but smile to himself. He’d kissed her hand without much thought - a reflex he’d picked up after years of coaxing and comforting the kids he tutored back in Opelucid. It had just…fit, given the way she was clinging and bristling all at once. He felt a quiet rush of relief he hadn’t expected, and yet, his pulse picked up at the same time. For days, he’d been half-convinced she hated him, that the last fight had carved something permanent between them.
Instead…this.
He lowered her hand. “Ready to go?”
The movie flickered on the dresser’s screen, casting the room in pale, shivering light. Drayton was leaned up against the wall at the head of the bed, long legs stretched out like he owned the place, while Carmine stubbornly stayed at the foot of the mattress, arms around her knees.
Because of course Drayton wasn’t serious when he said he was going to bed.
“You’re seriously sitting way down there?” he asked blankly, not looking away from the screen.
“Yep,” she affirmed curtly. “Safe distance.”
“From what? Me?”
Her only answer was a prim grunt, but she lost the upper hand when the first uneasy strings began to hum from the speakers. The camera lingered on an empty, dim hallway - just a single, ornate picture frame in view.
“Wow,” Drayton muttered, amused. “This is gonna wreck you.”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
She tried to watch the movie. Tried. She braced herself as the strings dipped into a hush, a low tremor of sound coiling like an Arbok slithering in the dark. She pressed her lips together, fighting the twitch in her shoulders as the camera drifted down a dim hallway, each step of the characters’ shoes echoing just a little too loud. She dug her nails lightly when the ominous, dusty painting filled the screen.
A portrait of a ghostly pale blonde woman was encased inside, tucking a creepy Banette with its head flopped over against herself. Carmine’s neck prickled as the characters walked past it nonchalantly, completely unaware of the woman’s shifting eyes following them across the room.
“Okay - nope, we’re turning it off,” Carmine announced, lurching forward on her knees toward the head of the bed.
Drayton cocked an eyebrow without looking away from the screen, but still grabbed the remote near his lap as a precautionary measure. He acted as oblivious as the characters. “Why? It’s just gettin’ good.”
“Because I’m not about to sit here and watch some real-life Old Chateau nightmare unfold!” she snapped, leaning over him now. “You also didn’t tell me this was based on a true story!”
“You said - and I quote - ‘put on whatever you want,’” he reminded her, grunting as she reached for the remote.
“That was before I knew you were deranged !” she snapped, grabbing for it again.
The mattress dipped under her as she crawled up toward him, and he leaned back, holding the remote high over his head. “Deranged? I’m curating your cultural experience.”
“You’re curating my nightmares!” She shoved at his shoulder, reaching higher. He twisted just enough that she ended up halfway sprawled across his lap, still batting for it.
“Persistent, aren’t you?” he muttered, sounding more entertained than irritated. She didn’t notice his own wicked smile forming when he kept dangling her escape from the film just out of her reach again and again.
“Give it,” she demanded, stretching so far her knee dug into his side.
“Ow,” he grunted, but he didn’t let go. He shoved her back just enough to break her awkward balance she was creating by climbing around, and she landed snugly next to him.
Before she could protest again, the tv speakers swelled with a sudden surge of eerie strings. One of the characters had been storming away from the other, and suddenly clutched their chest in horror.
Drayton’s eyes lit with anticipation. “Ooh, watch this, watch this,” he urged, hooking his arms around her to keep her from wiggling out of place.
The character gasped, crumpling to the floor as though something unseen had reached in and squeezed their heart.
Carmine screamed - loud, sharp, and completely unrestrained - before she even knew she’d moved, her face burying itself in his chest. She clung to him with both hands, the movie forgotten except for the pounding in her ears. “What - what the hell just happened?!”
Drayton let out a laugh, relaxing his hold on the scaredy Litten who had rested against him. “The haunted painting put a curse on them.”
Her fingers fisted tighter in his shirt. “Turn it off. I mean it, Drayton, turn it off .”
He was laughing now, warm and low. “Alright, alright-” he reached for the remote and thumbed it to mute it, his free arm still loosely draped around her.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it.
His laughter tapered off into a faint grin, silencing the last of the noise that was in the not-as-messy-as-she-expected room. Carmine kept her eyes focused on the crumples in his shirt she was creating when his chin dipped to look down at her.
He was mumbling with a volume and comfort that she wasn’t used to. “You know, for someone who acts so tough, you get rattled pretty easily.”
“Be quiet.” She uttered back, matching the tone.
“Wow,” he blurted. “No insults, no sass. You’re spoilin’ me.”
She put on her best pout, but it was being chipped away by the sudden hand rubbing her head. “What do you mean?”
“Means you’re sittin’ here all cute and needy, instead of biting my head off. And I gotta admit, I don’t hate it.”
Her lips curved before she could stop them. “Well…I don’t hate this side of you, either.”
He started to look down, ready to tack on some teasing remark, but the words fizzled out the second he caught sight of her.
She wasn’t glaring at him. She wasn’t rolling her eyes or biting back, or even hiding her face. No - she was looking up at him head on, and her expression had blossomed into a sweet, adoring smile that would engrave itself into his mind whether he wanted it to or not.
The beaming light emitting from the tv washed over her like moonlight on fiery water, picking up every delicate curve of her face. It traced the gentle slope of her cheek, the faint blush warming her skin, and caught on the locks of her hair where they framed her face. Her lashes cast soft shadows beneath her crinkled, vivid eyes, and they complimented her merrily pinned, plush lips.
There was something about the way she looked at him in that moment that made everything else dissolve into static, like the room had ceased to exist. She wasn’t just pretty; she was devastating in her tenderness. And he couldn’t help but feel an exhilaration surge through him the more he drank up her golden glow. His chest gave an unsteady thump before he even realized it.
Carmine’s smile dropped a tad when she caught him staring. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said too quickly, tearing his eyes away and releasing her all at once. He snuck under the covers below him as she pressed him further.
She had almost convinced herself she’d imagined the way his heart skipped earlier, when she’d been pressed to his chest.
“Nothing?” she echoed, suspicious.
His eyes were already shut. “Mhm. Go to sleep.”
Carmine huffed, slipping under the covers beside him. The bed wasn’t made for two, so she had no choice but to lay close enough that she could feel the faint warmth radiating off him.
“You’re not off the hook,” she breathed into the dim space between them.
“When am I ever with you?” he whispered back with a playful tilt.
She gave him a light shove, and his hand caught hers mid-push. He pressed it gently back to the space between them, and rested his hand close enough to hers that their pinkies had brushed up against each other.
“Promise me something,” he had said just as Carmine thought the conversation was done, digging his pinky under hers.
“What?” She mumbled, keeping her eyes closed and her breathing as calm as she could with the touch.
“That you won’t go back to hating me tomorrow.”
The whisper had a bleak, pained undertone to it, and it tugged at her. Their argument from the other day had undoubtedly wounded him, too.
It was strange, how something so quiet could feel so heavy, how a single breath of his voice could lodge itself in her chest. Somewhere in the tension between them, a tenderness had taken root without her noticing. Now it was there, undeniable, humming through the small space they shared.
“Only if you tell me more about what you’re doing instead of keeping me out of it,” she spilled out.
She heard him nuzzle against the pillow they shared, then felt his finger lightly curl around hers. “Deal.”
Her eyes drooped as the touch remained, and she fluttered them to a close.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“...And you better not pressure her into taking on the league. You know what, I might do the talking for that part.”
Amarys turned, alerting herself to the familiar voice that was echoing down the hall. Certainly enough, her best friend emerged a moment later, walking beside one of her fellow elite four members.
“I know, I know,” Drayton grumbled, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. “You said she likes battling though, yeah? She might be up for it anyways.”
Carmine continued on, seemingly lost in her own train of thought. “Oh, and make sure you actually chew your food in front of her instead of gobbling it all down at once. I don’t want you scaring her.”
“Pretty sure that wasn’t in the movie.”
“Oh hush.” Carmine’s eyes darted to Amarys, and she lifted a hand in an easy wave. Drayton followed suit with a head nod in her directions.
Amarys waved back with a smile that was more knowing than she’d reveal. The pair paused in front of her and seemed to stand remarkably close to each other.
“What are you two up to?” She asked, striking her most neutral tone available.
“Getting breakfast.” Carmine replied in an oddly calm tone.
“Cafeteria.” Drayton answered at the same time, beaming.
Amarys turned her attention to Carmine. "You usually go earlier than this."
"I, uhh, woke up late today." Carmine muttered sheepishly.
Amarys's eye darted back to Drayton. "I did too," He added.
"Well that part isn't surprising." Amarys remarked. "I already ate. Have fun."
As they said their goodbyes, Amarys’s eyes lingered on them for a beat longer than she meant to. There was no visible tension, no sharp words waiting to fall - just an easy, casual conversation about an apparent breakfast they were about to have together.
Her boots clinked softly against the vinyl floors as she made her way to the League Room. As she anticipated, the reigning Champion had been eagerly waiting with the other Elite Four members, idly tossing a pokeball up and down as he tapped his foot in agitation.
Amarys reached in her pocket and presented him with what he was waiting for. “Thanks for catching this. I don’t need it anymore.”
Kieran arched a brow as he took it back. “It's unusual ta' get a request for somethin' like this from you. What did ya’ use it for anyways?”
“Just… fixing something that needed fixing,” she said vaguely, already turning toward the white board to give it a good cleaning.
Kieran paused for a moment before dismissing the matter. “Tch, whatever. I’m going back to training.”
As he marched off, Amarys relaxed her shoulders and let out a content breath.
Lacey broke her focus away from the Quest Point machine she was definitely pretending to tinker with, and carefully approached Amarys once she was certain Kieran had left the room. "Have you talked to Carmine at all? I'm still worried about her."
"Yeah, it felt weird for us to ignore those messages last night." Crispin added, popping up from a spice rack by the kitchenette.
Amarys propped up her slouching glasses, reaching for an eraser. "It was a necessary component of my plans."
"What plans?" Crispin quired.
"Secret plans."
Crispin drew closer, enticed. "Aww, come on, tell us!"
"Crispin, let it go!" Lacey boomed, irritated. The boy retreated behind the frying pan he threw up in defense. Lacey turned back with a calmer expression. "It's okay if it's personal. But how did things go?"
Amarys met her eyes with a small smile. "I believe they went well."
Lacey grinned back. "Good, I'm happy to hear that."
Amarys's two classmates returned to their usual morning activities, with one repeating her chastising towards the other. But thankfully, these two didn't need an intervention. Yet.
She glanced towards the hallway, where sleepy students began to emerge from their bedrooms for breakfast. A good mood began to color her day.
To say her plan went well was an understatement; they went better than she expected.
She knew she wasn’t imagining those two swinging their looped pinkies around, after all.