adelaide hadn't needed much pressing to stay inside with eleanor while willow went away. it's hot as all hell and up near fallarbor, so close to mt. chimney, the heat gets pretty unbearable. she's had to put up tents for her outdoor plots and managing her flower fields has been two jobs in of itself. 

grace's squirtle has helped immensely with ensuring the fields stay watered, but she's starting to realize she might need to field more help. her water bill is getting dangerously high, threatening to creep up on her profit margins for the flowers. 

but none of that now. when bo mentioned he had the day to spend at splashfest, she'd jumped at the idea. roman was going stir-crazy in the house and she'd been watching him like a hawk, scared if he went off on his own he'd get heat stroke somewhere. 

her hair is up in a ponytail, but that hasn't done much to stop the sweat from trickling down her neck. it's not often she dons her farming clothes, but she'd managed to dig an old yellow sundress out from the back of her closet. her swimsuit straps are visible aside the spaghetti strap shoulders, tanned skin still glistening with sunscreen protecting her from a burn. 

"ro, c'mon. and put po back in his ball. you don't want his paws to burn, do you?" roman goes to argue, but the pup whines. he begrudgingly recalls the dog and makes his way up to the counter. 

"blue raspberry and raikou blood." he snickers and looks at bo. "rookie mistake. they're the best together."

willow gets a pina colada flavor for herself and wipes some sweat from her brow while they wait. 

"so, we thinking games or the beach?"

boruta maher

☉

willow looked very pretty in her sundress. bo was sure not to let his eyes linger too long, finding himself lost in distant memories in moments that caught him off guard. they shouldn’t have. he’d been hung up on her all over again for years now. how could he not be?

and, really, it had never changed, just been repressed as his life had unfolded in other darker ways—but telling her that would surely come off as so offensively confusing that he would perhaps forever keep it to himself.

though annoyed, bo kept to himself and slurped syrup out of the paper cone as willow reasoned with roman, knowing better than to interject. despite their relationship slowly improving with therapy, he was cautious, lest his son run away again and stab someone, or worse. there was only so much he could do.

at the question, bo shrugged, smiling.

”whatever you guys wanna do. fair warning, though, if we go do games,” he lifted his arm and flexed his bicep with a fist, ”i’m gonna win. no mercy.” the pidgey on his shoulder chirped in solidarity.

willow atkins

☉

the snow cone does a pretty good job at cooling her off so really, she doesn't mind either way. and besides, despite her sweat, the heat does little to bother her. you don't work on a farm for as long as she has without learning to deal with heat. so, amused, she looks from bo and down at roman, knowing with bo's proclamation that their fate has been sealed. 

"uh, yeah, in your dreams," roman says. and somehow, in the time it's taken willow to blink, he's somehow polished off his snow cone. he tosses the paper cup over his shoulder and points dramatically at the nearest game booth, ignoring willow's annoyed chiding. 

"littering? roman!" but he's already grabbing a squirt gun and crowing over his shoulder that he's going to 'kick your ass just like i do in cod.'

willow snatches up the trash and shakes her head. "go kick his ass," she says, grinning up at bo. 

boruta maher

☉

roman tossing the snow cone over his shoulder was more than predictable. his son, a litterer… but again, what was he going to say when it would likely erupt, and roman would either run off into the crowd, or do something even more fucked up?

tensions felt high, even when they were having fun. there was always a warning in the back of his head to watch himself. it was frustrating.

”will do,” he nodded at willow, finished his snow cone just as quickly (roman came by it honestly) and then rushed over to grab a squirt gun.

”don’t miss, roman.”

boards painted like popplio had sensors for mouths, which popped up and down between the staggered rows of the booth. when the game started, bo took aim at the first target, which disappeared half a second later.

xcd3EKf7

willow atkins

☉

for all his trash talk, roman actually looks a little nervous. willow can see a little bit of red poking out from under his collar. it could just be the summer heat, but she recognizes those hunched shoulders, the determined look on his face. more than beating bo, he wants to impress him. 

willow gives both of them a wide enough berth so she can't be blamed for swaying either side. her gaze follows the streams of water as father and son vie for supremacy over painted popplio. 

boruta maher
_ub51gHY

☉

oh shit. roman sucked at this. he figured he’d be at least kind of good. silently, he blamed this on willow, for this poor aim had certainly not come from his side of the family.

maybe it was just a bad run.

”told you, ro. no mercy. that’s how pros do it.”

and he’d prove it again.

”what’s next? or you wanna try for the redemption?”

willow atkins

☉

roman does not take kindly to losing. right before it's made clear he is absolutely going to get decimated, he shakes the squirt gun and slaps the side of it, complaining that 'bo's was rigged and that's the only reason he lost.' willow sighs irritably and goes to ruffle roman's hair, but he shrugs her off. 

"these games are stupid." willow crumples up her snow cone container and looks pointedly down at him. 

"being a sore loser is stupid," she says and he glowers up at her before thinking better of it. maybe because making a scene could end their happy family day? she doesn't know. only that he mumbles something resembling an apology and pushes her back towards the tent.

"okay, then you try and beat dad." she shrugs and looks mischievously up at bo, brows raised. 

"only because he asked so nicely."

boruta maher

☉

finally! a true champion prevails.

”skills, roman! skills!”

the pidgey on his shoulder held up wings like a hype man. bo did his best not to celebrate too much, but he couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin which flashed over at his son, who was already assaulting the squirt gun and being generally shitty.

he waited again, lingering by the booth because they still hadn’t racked up enough points to win anything. even with his back turned, there was simply no turning down roman’s voice.

but then he heard… a voluntary apology? or something like it. in his experience, that didn’t normally happen. maybe wrangling roman for therapy was paying off after all.

when willow took up the challenge, bo turned, smirk at least as equally as mischievous as hers. his eyes were sparkling.

”you sure? not scared you’re gonna get smoked by excellence?”

willow atkins

☉

she expects all of bo's flexing to have the opposite effect on their sour sore loser of a son, and he certainly tries to keep up appearances of being upset, but she knows that twinge on his lips. she can tell he's trying not to laugh. and it's why she plays along with such exuberance, why she grabs the squirt gun even though her hands are feeling clammy for some reason. 

"please," she says with a roll of her eyes. "we're competing with squirt guns, not our egos."

she hands over a couple more tickets and takes the unfamiliar weight in her hand. and when the buzzer goes off, she does try to take it seriously, except when she spies roman watching with that not-quite-smile still on his face, she winks at him and playfully jabs her elbow against bo to try and throw him off balance.

boruta maher

xnaL|1TW

☉

"psh."

bo took up the squirt gun. now was the moment of truth. would willow redeem her side of the family? perhaps. perhaps not.

the elbow jab caught him off-guard. well-deserved, maybe, but still a surprise. had roman gotten his bullying from his mother too?

"ah!" his aim was knocked off, and for some reason, it stayed that way. 

"no!"

he was getting decimated. this was ridiculous. unfortunately, as the timer ticked down into the single digits, his aim only got worse. 

"nooo!"

lQjxXNhj

willow atkins

☉

and, surprisingly, that secures her the win. she gets a little too into it, falling over bo and pushing a blind palm out to slap at his squirt gun in order to distract him. by the time his demise is clear, she's giggling too much to be of any use herself. an eight year-old that had taken up the race at the other end of the booth ends up beating them by a landslide. 

so both of them remain prizeless and she turns to apologize to roman, not realizing her hand is still lingering on bo's arm, and roman is just beaming. 

"suck it, dad! mom's got balls." and then he points to the next shiny thing he sees and scampers off, crowing for them to join him. 

boruta maher

☉

willow was looking at roman, and bo was looking at willow, grinning and nearly tripping over himself. it wasn’t the hand on his arm, or the way she was falling against him. it was the shared laughter. a moment that felt more like it was thirteen or fourteen years ago, back when they had just been a couple of happy kids in love. back when he hadn’t ruined things yet.

he was pulled out of his reverie by roman’s inevitable shit-talking. the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, maybe.

”she cheated!”

with his childhood effectively tapped into, he nearly gave into the urge to bolt after him. instead, he hung back with willow, not wanting to leave her behind.

still recovering from laughter, he cleared his throat and smiled over at her before shaking his head.

”i can’t believe you.”

willow atkins

☉

yes, bo - willow and eleanor are absolutely to blame for roman's uncouth language. more the latter, sure, but he definitely gets his mischief from his mother. it's harmless though and she can't help but laugh at his exclamation, can't stop the little chuckles that keep bubbling out of her because this is fun and she's happy. 

"what?" she says defensively, drawing her hands up in mock surrender. "it's called strategy."

her eyes glimmer and she searches for roman in the crowd. a small bit of panic rises in her throat when she can't immediately find him, but then she sees him waving impatiently by a stand with a balloon and darts game. 

"how long until we tell him most of these games are rigged so he loses?" she says with a sigh. 

boruta maher

☉