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Piers reached a short cliff near the shore and took a seat in the patchy grass. The seawater was tinted orange, the sun just about to touch the horizon. The waves were a bit taller than usual today, but nothing to fear about. He hugged his knees and let the wind pass over his face. While he was here, he didn't have to worry about anything at all. Not if he had left the stove on, nor if something was molding in his room, nor if some of his records were warping because of the heat. While he was here, he was at peace. After a deep breath, Piers took out the slip of paper he had brought with him. It was scrawled front and back in his handwriting. He folded it neatly and stuffed it in his jacket pocket, easy to find. He propped up his foot on the fence and took a look at the ground below.
His gaze was disrupted as his eye soon caught the figure of a man all too familiar to him, bounding up the sand in the distance. The picnic bag he brought along with him trailed behind, held in mid-air by telekinetic force. The man stumbled over nature a number of times, but was determined.
"Surprise! Surprise!" he called out, running up the cliffside. "Huh... how I wish I could just hold onto an Abra and... have it... just Teleport me whenever I want... what are you doing?"
"Avery," he stepped down from the fence and embraced the blond man. "Just enjoyin' the view. Whatcha have there?"
"Food! And a blanket, of course. I just bought these trousers, and I couldn't get them dirty. Though I couldn't say the same for yours..." Avery chuckled, unfolding the blanket and fanning it out over the dry grass. He sat on his legs and unpacked the food--flatbread, smoked Basculin, a fancy-looking cheese, and a half-full bottle of dark wine. Piers made a face at this, and after a moment, Avery threw him a beer.
"Thanks." Piers sat with Avery, backs against the overstretching tree. They sipped their respective drinks and looked out into the sea.
"I would bring out my Slowpoke, but he gets fussy at this time."
"Do you really not have any other friends?" Piers said this as a joke, but Avery gave a stiff chuckle, indicating that that had struck deep.
"Well, I have my fellow students at the dojo. That counts, right?"
"Uh... anyway. I was thinkin' about movin' out of my flat."
"Really!" Avery said, pointedly. "When did you decide this?"
"I decided not too long ago."
"Oh, but you have so much here-- what will happen with all your stuff? "
"What about it? Do you want it?"
"Frankly, no... Are you unable to find a moving service? I can help. Do you need a skip?"
"I don't think a truck could get over there."
"Are you going to another region?"
"Yes. I just want to put it all behind me." Piers leaned back against the tree, stretching out his arms.
Avery scoffed. "I think you've completely lost it. 'It all'? Do you understand what that implies? What about your hometown, with all those people who love what you do?"
"My music's still out there, it won't go anywhere."
"And your parents!"
"I'll write back. I already have a letter."
"And me?!"
"Avery, you know I'll always be there for you."
Avery's mouth paused, and it closed with a huff. "I'm inclined to disagree, Piers." he took a moment to stir his wine. "You've become so distant."
"How have I become distant?"
"You being distant is the entire reason I made this a surprise! If you had known I was coming here, you would have made some excuse that you were ill, or had a gig, or you were... resting your voice..."
"Those are valid excuses."
"Not when it just so happens to come up when I ask you out!" Avery put a hand on his chest, calming down. He set down the cup of wine and turned his body toward Piers, but not looking quite at his face. "I just want to know if I did something wrong," he said, quietly.
"I've just been out of it. I'll be better soon."
"But how? How can you get better? I don't even know what it is that you need to get better about. And you're telling me that you're moving... why do you go out of your way to isolate us?"
Piers couldn't say anything. In the distance, a Staryu shot a powerful jet of water at a Slowpoke, and the shells the Slowpoke had stolen spilled out over the sand.
"I visited Spikemuth once, as unelegant as it is, I came to see you. Piers, do you know how dedicated those people are to you? Even when you're not there, they speak about you. And it's only good things. When you retired from the Spikemuth gym, they all thought it was their fault. I watched them spend hours cleaning up the streets, and they even moved that one old car that was blocking the entrance of the town."
"That was them?"
"Yes! With their own bare hands, no less. Even without your instructions. Just because they felt so bad for you."
"Did you offer to help them, or...?"
"Tch. My point is that you have so many people who look up to you. They don't have a Champion in that town, I don't believe they even had police up until recently... they only have you. And..." Avery made sure to bring his voice to a gentle whisper. "I know your baby sister would have loved to see Spikemuth keep its leader."
Piers nodded grimly.
"Well, it's only food for thought. Just use Calm Mind and think about it, okay?"
The two men's conversation simmered down to a comfortable silence. The sun was setting, sending its red glow across the sea and on the men's faces. Subconsciously, Avery shifted to bring his body closer to the other man. He reached down and wrapped a loose thread from Piers' pants around his finger and ripped it off. Piers meant to tell off Avery about it, that he'd spent weeks sewing on the various patches and ornaments to his pants, but fell silent. Avery moved to sit facing Piers, his hip resting against the other man's leg.
"Hey, sit still."
"Apologies, it's just that... you look all out of sorts! No, hold still." Avery brushed off the crumbs of flatbread from Piers' cheek. Then he straightened the black and white hair out of his eyes, commenting under his breath about just how unkempt Piers was. Much to Piers' chagrin, the blond wet his thumb and wiped at his cheek. The sun was setting behind Avery's head, which illuminated his long, golden hair. In the breeze, it fanned out beside his head, and through the little gaps between locks of hair, Piers watched the horizon. The light caught onto the curves of Avery's face, the richness of it, and nestled under his eyes and dimples. His eyelashes were so long that he could blink and they would brush up lightly against the lens of his glasses.
"No, you know, I couldn't. I think it was just a heat-of-the-moment idea."
"You can't be making such drastic decisions out of nowhere!"
"You're right, Avery. I can't."
Avery sat back on his calves and took in the sight of his work. "I think it's getting to be quite chilly. Shall we head back to mine?"
"Okay."
On the way down from the cliff, Piers threw away his empty beer can in the bin alongside the slip of paper.