Gavin's fascination with the Tirtouga seems to grow.

"Ah, it's always so rewarding to see the species thriving again."

He watches the turtle swim up to the glass and places its fin against it, thinking little of the gesture until Theo puts his hand up in return.

It's sweet. Arceus save him.

It's a darker force that intervenes, instead, prompting jealousy anew.

"From my sister?"

A guess. His tone betrays nothing of his gnawing emotions.

[attr="class","beck"]"saoirse?"

he's unsuspecting enough to allow the mention of her to catch him off guard. he thinks little of it, however.

"no. she's yet to gift me anything."

his attention drifts back to the tank, choosing comfort over whatever lurks behind cillian's gaze.

"he's from kanto."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

"I don't have any other sisters. That I know of."

A touch of humour to offset the discomfort he feels. It helps little, especially when Theo mentions Kanto. Would he return, someday?

I'll stay with you this time.

Gavin can only hope the promise is kept, pining for emotions unrequited.

Theo must trust this person a lot, to leave them caring for something so precious to him. Something Gavin hadn't even known about, until now. It's like glass between his ribs when he breathes, throat thick before he swallows.

I still mean something to him. Even if it's not what he wants.

"Thank you for trusting me with this." Though Theo's not looking at him when he speaks, Gavin's gaze rests on the other. He smiles, fond with a touch of sadness. "I can see how important it is to you."

[attr="class","beck"]"it's..."

his voice trails off, cut off by his subconscious. he realizes as much — conditioning he has yet to shake — but for cillian, he'll try.

"it's my safe space."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Though it will return in solitude, jealousy is drowned by an overwhelming affection.

He understands, as few others could, what this meant. How difficult it was for people like them, to be honest with one another. It's the same reason he'd told Chu-e Choi about Lulu Flint when his counterpart had confessed his own sibling's identity.

He clasps Theo's shoulder, expressing what words cannot. The touch is brief, no matter how much he wants to let his hand linger.

"I won't tell a soul," he vows.

It's safer, now, to care about things in Rocket — but the wounds of conditioning upon the fragile flesh of the mind would not heal overnight.

[attr="class","beck"]the touch almost snaps his gaze away but the involuntary tense is telling enough. slowly, he turns to meet cillian.

"good."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

He feels Theo's muscles tense beneath the touch and wills it not to hurt.

It would take time for things to go back to how they were.

Proximity and emotions leave him vulnerable enough that the admin's pale blue stare catches him off guard. He's momentarily entranced by it, mouth dry and breath shallow, before he pulls himself together and offers a quick smile.

Arceus, if only he could enjoy the company of strangers.

[attr="class","beck"]something slips his mind, something perhaps intended to be buried, but it surfaces when his gaze drifts past cillian, landing on a plainly decorated tank with a single bruxish inside it. it swims back and forth, reflecting light off its beautiful scales.

"cillian."

he swallows hesitation, stepping past him to approach the tank.

"i was wrong when i said saoirse hasn't gifted me anything."

he stops close enough, then tears his gaze away from the bruxish. it finds cillian over his shoulder.

"this was a gift from her."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Dazed.

It's the best way to describe the look in Gavin's eyes; it's as if he's struggling against something he doesn't know how to process. He feels too many things at once — affection, jealousy, hurt, guilt, all of which roil in his stomach.

His throat bobs as he swallows.

"Ah," he acknowledges. "It's beautiful."

His expression clears as he blinks, stepping closer to the tank.

To him, by proxy.

[attr="class","beck"]it's indifference he feels, he decides, when he doesn't bother to look past cillian's dazed gaze for what lies behind it. not here, at least, not in this space where he feels most safe.

"good."

his head turns back around, attention returning to the tank.

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Good?

It's like stepping through a fog, emerging from the other side in a different place than he'd started. What was good? Bruxish?

It's easier to think without Theo's gaze on him. Easier to breathe, suddenly, when he diverts his attention. Gavin's gaze drifts to the tank, to the Bruxish with its bright colours and alarmingly sharp teeth.

"Any favourites you don't have?"

[attr="class","beck"]"none."

the response is instantaneous, without any shred of hesitance because truth be told, they're all his favorites. each tells a different story, holds a different meaning, and to pick one would mean betraying the others.

or at least that's how theo sees it.

"which one's yours?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

None?

He says it too quick, Gavin thinks, for it to be anything but the truth. Gavin ponders the meaning of the simple word, lingers on tone and inflection, and decides that it's not because Theo sees these Pokemon as tools, but precisely because he doesn't.

None.

Amber eyes shift from tank to tank, quietly cataloging. He was going to have his work cut out for him.

"Mm?" A soft noise in his throat as the question pulls him from thought. "Of the ones you have, or all of them?"