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Urbain has a particular way of knocking.
He announces his arrival by rapping three times on the wood with his knuckles, pausing, and then slamming the brass knocker with authoritative impunity. Harmony knows it’s him before he finishes the fourth and final knock, usually. Naveen is much more reserved—he knocks gently once or twice, and then waits in bored silence in the hallway. Lida just straight up yells through the door.
Tonight Urbain knocks on Harmony’s door around midnight. It’s an unusual hour to be calling on her, but as Harmony wraps herself up in her robe and slips over to the door, she finds that she doesn’t truly mind.
“Harmony! You’re up,” says Urbain.
He’s shed his jacket in favor of a comfortable hoodie, and he’s wearing sandals with socks instead of his usual sneakers. He looks ready for bed, but clearly he’s here to seek refuge and company instead.
“Yeah,” says Harmony. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
They stare at each other.
“Wanna head up to the roof for a bit?” says Urbain.
Harmony tightens her robe belt and bites her lip.
“Isn’t it cold?”
“A bit,” says Urbain. “Why not just bundle up and join me?”
Harmony stares down at her bare feet, weighing her options. Does she want to bother getting dressed again so she can stand out in the cold with a jittery, talkative Urbain? It’s already midnight, and they have an early strategy meeting tomorrow.
“Okay,” says Harmony.
Urbain’s brow clears and he smiles.
“Great! See you up there.”
By the time Harmony dons a jacket and some sweatpants, Urbain is waiting for her with his hands shoved in his pockets and his Rotom phone hovering in midair, its screen a bright rectangle of light in the starry dark.
It’s cold, of course. Harmony shivers a little as she closes the door behind her and joins Urbain.
“Can I ask you something?” says Urbain, apropos of nothing.
Harmony nods.
“Ask away,” she says.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“Ah,” says Harmony.
It’s nothing pressing or daunting, really. She’s always been a bit of an insomniac, so it’s par for the course that, what with all the rogue mega Pokémon hubbub and daily Team MZ shenanigans, she’d sleep less than usual. Sometimes she spends the wee hours of the morning just scrolling through her phone album and Rotogram account, taking careful inventory of memories, counting all the close calls and wild encounters. Sometimes she scrolls back far enough to glimpse her old city, rife with old, dear faces and haunts that slightly ache to think of now.
“You don’t have to tell me,” says Urbain, perhaps misreading her tone as hesitation.
“No, it’s fine,” says Harmony. “I was just… thinking.”
“Thinking? About what?”
If Harmony were a troll, she’d say something like “Lumiose, obviously,” just to tease Urbain. Hell, Urbain probably spends all his free time thinking about saving Lumiose anyway.
“My old life,” says Harmony, surprising herself with her honesty.
“What about it?”
“I don’t miss it,” says Harmony.
Urbain’s face brightens with a faint smile.
“Why not?”
Harmony rubs her chin in thought.
“I don’t know. I guess I like it here, so…”
Urbain’s smile morphs into a full-blown grin.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” he says. “Lumiose is one of a kind.”
He gestures to the city sprawling before them, the glittering lights like tiny diamonds in the dark. Harmony looks out into the night and inhales the cool breeze, taking a moment to just soak in its aura.
“Can I ask you something, Urbain?” she says.
Urbain glances at her.
“Go ahead,” he says.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
Urbain’s smile wavers a bit.
“Ah, well,” he says. “I guess I was just thinking about stuff, too.”
“Like what?”
Harmony fully expects the usual slate of topics: saving Lumiose, rogue mega evolutions, the Z-A Royale, and promotion matches to name a few. She waits patiently while Urbain pulls a face and scrubs a hand through his windswept hair.
“This is going to sound nuts, but…” says Urbain, “...do you ever doubt yourself?”
Harmony furrows her brow and tilts her head.
“Doubt myself?”
“Yeah. Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough?”
“At what?”
Urbain grimaces.
“Life, I guess?” he says.
Harmony stares in confusion.
“Um,” she says.
“I know this sounds weird,” says Urbain. “Bear with me, okay?”
So Harmony does. She humors him. She waits for the other shoe to drop conversationally.
“You probably can’t relate, because you’re good at everything you do,” says Urbain, and he says it so factually and smoothly, as if it were a confirmed truism and not a teenage boy’s rose-tinted hero worship.
Harmony shakes her head.
“I’m not,” she protests.
“Mm. You are,” says Urbain, and he looks at her with such fondness for a moment that Harmony forgets what she’s going to say next.
She drops her gaze, uncertain and a little embarrassed.
“Anyway, I’m not looking for sympathy,” continues Urbain. “I’m just confiding in you as a friend. That’s okay, right?”
“Of course,” says Harmony.
“Good.”
Urbain holds out a fist. Harmony stares at it, a little perturbed by the timing and the cheesy gesture, but she can never deny Urbain anything. She holds out a fist in return. Urbain beams.
“We should head back inside,” he says. “It’s getting colder out here.”
They do, and Urbain takes it upon himself to walk her back to her room. She thanks him at her door, staring curiously into his face when he bids her good night.
“Urbain,” she says, and he pauses in the middle of the hallway to spin on his heel.
“Yes?”
“You’re a good one,” says Harmony, without fully knowing what she means.
A welter of emotions passes over Urbain’s face: confusion, embarrassment, joy, and finally understanding. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, grinning at her in that roguish, familiar way of his.
“G’night, Harmony,” he says, before slipping down the hall and out of sight.
The next time Urbain visits her room, it’s midday, and her sink has a leak.
He crawls under the sink to mess with valves and pipes and other things, and Harmony sits on her bed, phone hovering beside her, and watches reels on Rotogram while he grunts and mutters to himself over the gurgling water.
Ten minutes into the plumbing attempt, water starts leaking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Harmony stares.
“Urbain?” she says.
Urbain’s muffled voice is barely audible over the gush of water.
Harmony tiptoes over to the bathroom and finds Urbain sitting like a drenched Patrat on the tile.
“You good?” she says, eyebrows raising.
“Er, I can fix this,” he says.
Harmony shakes her head and holds out a hand. Urbain takes it and lets himself be hauled to his feet. He sighs, staring in dismay at the mess he’s made.
“Maybe you should sleep in another room tonight,” he says. “I’ll call someone about this.”
Harmony ends up moving to the next room over. She dumps her things in the room and then spends the majority of the day darting around Lumiose, running errands for strangers and Emma. By the time evening rolls around, she’s exhausted and ready for a hot shower and bed.
After her shower, she hears a familiar three knocks on her door while toweling her hair dry.
Urbain is standing in the hallway with a sheepish smile when she answers it.
“Up for some company?” he asks.
“I have some Roserade tea,” says Harmony, stepping back to let him in.
They end up sitting at her little table with two steaming cups of tea. Urbain scalds his tongue immediately, which is very typical of him; Harmony drinks hers slowly and with aplomb, staring at Urbain as he dramatically fans at his tongue and then downs a whole glass of water.
“Couldn’t sleep again?” asks Harmony after a bit.
“How’d you know?” says Urbain.
“It’s late, and you’re here again.”
“I… yeah. You got me.”
Harmony pushes her empty teacup aside and folds her arms across the tabletop.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she says.
Urbain averts his gaze.
“It’s nothing serious,” he says.
“It doesn’t have to be,” says Harmony. “You can share anything. No judgment here.”
Urbain slants her a fleeting look, biting his lip.
“You know what I said the other day, about not being good enough?” he says slowly.
Harmony nods.
“I still feel that way, but…” says Urbain, trailing off.
He looks right at her, piercing blue eyes like chips of ice.
“I want you to know that you’ve inspired me to be better,” he says.
Confused, but flattered, Harmony nods again.
“That’s… good?” she says.
There’s a warmth to the smile that Urbain is giving her. It makes him hard to look at. Harmony stares at the teacup, and then at her hands folded on the table in front of her, and then back at Urbain’s shining eyes again.
“Can I tell you something, Harmony?” says Urbain.
Harmony waits, her eyebrows raising.
“I like you,” says Urbain, plain as day.
Harmony frowns.
“Um, thanks? I like you too.”
Urbain laughs.
“I know you do,” he says. “But I mean, I…”
He places a hand over hers, cool fingers grazing her knuckles. His eyes fasten to her face with unerring attentiveness.
“Oh,” says Harmony, suddenly catching on.
Urbain’s cheeks are pink.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he says. “I know it’s sudden.”
“Uh,” says Harmony intelligently.
“I just wanted you to know,” says Urbain.
He lifts his hand, pulling back and rising from his seat to leave.
Harmony grabs him by the wrist before he can escape. Urbain’s eyes widen; he stares at her over his shoulder, his lips parted in surprise.
“Harmony?” he says.
“Don’t go yet,” she says.
Urbain listens, opting to sit back down again. His eyes haven’t left her face at all.
“I don’t have an answer,” says Harmony, chewing on her lip and fiddling with her sleeve. “Not yet, anyway.”
“That’s fine,” says Urbain, nodding.
“But I…”
She sucks in a shaky breath, steeling herself.
“I know I care about you,” says Harmony.
Urbain’s little smile is like a candle flickering to life.
“I’m glad,” he murmurs.
She lets go of his wrist. Urbain’s gaze lingers on her face as she looks down into her lap, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that she’s just been confessed to.
“Harmony?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I try something?”
Harmony glances at Urbain again, eyes widening when she sees him leaning across the table.
“Try what?” she asks, a little breathless.
“You can say no,” he says, gaze falling to her lips.
Harmony instantly knows what he’s asking. She can feel herself blush from head to toe.
“U-um,” she stammers.
Urbain leans back, sheepish and apologetic suddenly.
“Sorry,” he says. “That was a bit forward, huh?”
Harmony swallows, but finds that she doesn’t hate the offer. In fact, she kind of wants to take him up on it. A lot.
“Urbain,” she says softly.
Urbain stops rubbing his neck in sheepish apology, and fixes her with a serious, gentle look.
“Yes?”
“I want to try it. If that’s okay,” says Harmony.
Urbain’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and his eyes go very round.
“O-oh,” he says. “Um. Yes. Yeah. I… yeah.”
He stands up and moves around the table, squatting so he can meet her at eye level where she’s sitting.
“If you change your mind, that’s fine too,” he says, checking her for any signs of disapproval.
Harmony smiles in spite of herself.
She’s the one that leans forward first.
Urbain makes a soft, surprised noise when she kisses him.
It’s a gentle and unhurried kiss. It’s light as air, just a delicate, feather-soft brushing of lips against lips.
When it’s over, Urbain pulls away with his entire face fire-engine red.
“W-well,” he says.
Harmony’s probably faring the same. She doesn’t even want to guess how pink her cheeks are.
“Thank you,” says Harmony.
Urbain balks at this.
“No, I should be thanking you,” he says. “You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.”
This shuts him up. His mouth snaps closed and he averts his gaze, clearly embarrassed but also radiantly happy. Harmony can’t help the storm of Vivillons in her chest, either.
“I guess I’ll… see you later?” says Urbain, turning on his heel.
Harmony can’t even fathom being in the same room as Urbain and the rest of Team MZ post-kiss, but it’s bound to happen sooner than later.
Urbain darts one last look at her, and his joyous, smitten smile makes Harmony’s heart stutter in her chest.
She’s doomed. Absolutely doomed.
“Good night, Harmony,” says Urbain.
Harmony shuts the door behind him and then collapses on her bed in a heap.
Kissing their team leader hadn’t been on her bingo card for the year, but well, here they are.