[ Absol is, as ever, a steady hand. Much like Raikou or Persian, he manages to understand and make a point to her without doing much. Persian seems to be intimately aware of the situation at hand and what might occur now, perhaps even better than either of the trainers here.
Any other day she would have expected he'd notice her first. However excellent her espionage abilities might be, her own abilities, she knew, could never hold a Litwick to the skill he had in regard to being unnoticed and sneaking about. It isn't as if she didn't want to be noticed, anyway -- although admittedly him not speaking first gives her some comfort. It was unnerving to be here, now, after all that had happened. She's never argued or had a falling out with someone before, especially nothing that meant this much to her. Especially not someone.
It's a strange feeling to her in a way that she can't understand. Nothing about it can compare to anything else she's ever felt; the empathy and fear and affection and need of it all is something so foreign. If there was a close approximation she could derive from, she supposes it's a kind of love she's not sure she's felt in full or even partial force. It isn't just affection or concern, but the words hitch and pull every which way and fall silent before she can let them tumble out. Instead, she just holds onto him. Not tighter, but certainly not easing up. She shifts, her arms and hands moving him, pressing his nape down so his eyes are to her shoulder and neck. Not so hard he might not find his way out, but enough to let him know that this is a choice and she wants him this near.
Although she's not sure how to address it were he to ask why.
That he touches her back at all, whether in a stupor or not is meaningful to her. She's been devoid of a feeling like this, too, for a long time. It wasn't just about comforting him. Occasionally, her fingers flex against skin, like a pinch to reassure herself that they're not in a dream. ]
I told you, I needed some time. [ It comes with a certain croak, like she's got a cold. Quiet and pressed into him, her lips brush slightly against side of his head and into his unruly hair. Almost like she's afraid to admit to this and there's more to her words than just waiting and passing time. That there's some sincere conclusion she's come to that drapes her. ] I'm sorry. I should not have left the way I did. I... I didn't think.
[ I didn't think that I mattered this much to you. ]
hey ANY TIME friend
Any other day she would have expected he'd notice her first. However excellent her espionage abilities might be, her own abilities, she knew, could never hold a Litwick to the skill he had in regard to being unnoticed and sneaking about. It isn't as if she didn't want to be noticed, anyway -- although admittedly him not speaking first gives her some comfort. It was unnerving to be here, now, after all that had happened. She's never argued or had a falling out with someone before, especially nothing that meant this much to her. Especially not someone.
It's a strange feeling to her in a way that she can't understand. Nothing about it can compare to anything else she's ever felt; the empathy and fear and affection and need of it all is something so foreign. If there was a close approximation she could derive from, she supposes it's a kind of love she's not sure she's felt in full or even partial force. It isn't just affection or concern, but the words hitch and pull every which way and fall silent before she can let them tumble out. Instead, she just holds onto him. Not tighter, but certainly not easing up. She shifts, her arms and hands moving him, pressing his nape down so his eyes are to her shoulder and neck. Not so hard he might not find his way out, but enough to let him know that this is a choice and she wants him this near.
Although she's not sure how to address it were he to ask why.
That he touches her back at all, whether in a stupor or not is meaningful to her. She's been devoid of a feeling like this, too, for a long time. It wasn't just about comforting him. Occasionally, her fingers flex against skin, like a pinch to reassure herself that they're not in a dream. ]
I told you, I needed some time. [ It comes with a certain croak, like she's got a cold. Quiet and pressed into him, her lips brush slightly against side of his head and into his unruly hair. Almost like she's afraid to admit to this and there's more to her words than just waiting and passing time. That there's some sincere conclusion she's come to that drapes her. ] I'm sorry. I should not have left the way I did. I... I didn't think.
[ I didn't think that I mattered this much to you. ]