* content warning for self-harm/slight gore + forcefully attempting to push another character's triggers

"Super!" he beamed.

A hand released its death grip on her shoulder and soon fell to her wrist. (Perhaps Topher knew if he let go for too long, Miss Marisol would make her escape. And he certainly couldn't have that.) Once they reached the coffee shop, Topher figured he'd give her the opportunity and trust her. It wasn't long until tight fingers loosened their tenacious grip and he'd let go completely. But it posed the question: would she dare to run when they were in public and cause a scene? No, that wasn't her style. She was quiet like a church mouse. The idea of all eyes being on her would fall to his advantage.

"So what are the deets? What have you been up to? It's been sooooo long."

While his actions fell harsh and demanding, his words seemed eager and pleasant. But to the utterly helpless himbo, they were just two friends on the cusp of catching up. At the counter, Topher placed his order of a strawberry açaí lemonade. Coffee wasn't his thing so a nice cold drink would suit him well enough. Once Marisol chose her drink, Topher took the liberty to pay for both. It was the least he could do for her (well at least he thought it was) eager agreement to sit down with him and have a chat.

It was better for the duo to sit outside and enjoy the air. Or so Topher thought. But that was because he had other ideas. Sure, he couldn't remember the young woman's name but he remembered just what made her tick. And if he was anything, he was someone who liked to press people's buttons. It seemed strange that he took his keys out of his pocket, but there was a method to his madness.

"What's wrong, bestie? You seem so dull now. I was hoping to play."

* And just like that, Topher gripped hard on his keys and allowed the teeth of them to dig into his palm. A yank back on the lanyard caused the metal to rip through his skin and leave a jagged rip down his palm. As it tore through his skin, he couldn't help the harsh hiss that slipped past his gritted teeth. He turned his hand over to show her the damage in the wake: torn flesh bunched and shredded as blood coagulated to the surface to hide the gore left behind from the act.

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MARISOL SIMONE

He could practically taste the panic in her expression. It was delectable, and if he could, he'd drink it in its entirety. A stream of sanguine slid down his sleeve and dripped onto the table before them. After what seemed like forever, a laugh left his lips as he balled up some napkins and applied plenty of pressure to the wound itself. He'd let Marisol a moment to breathe, but who knew when he'd change his mind? Topher used his uninjured hand to reach out and give her a pat on the lap.

"You're so cute when you freak out like that!"

It didn't take long for the blood to soak through the napkins and it left Topher to search for more. He stood up and threw away the few he had used and quickly replaced them with new ones. In fact, he made sure to grab a stack of them if he needed to replace the one he had a grip on now. At least it seemed like the bleeding would soon stop, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He plopped back down in his seat and grinned from ear to ear as someone approached with their drinks. At the sight of the bloodied napkin in his hand, Topher waved dismissively and informed the barista that he'd simply tripped and cut up his palm on the sidewalk. It was no big deal to him. (Of course that's because only he and his guest knew the truth behind what really happened.)

Once they had their peace, Topher took a sip of his drink and let out an appreciative sound at the taste of it. Strawberry was his favorite, so it already got high marks in his book. But it didn't take him long to speak up again.

"So what brings you to Hoenn? I'm here because business is booming on my part."

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MARISOL SIMONE

Maybe it was the fact she seemed irritated by his little stunt, but the older of the pair couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of his throat and past his lips. Surely that wasn't enough to startle her, right? He could have done so much worse. Though his hand still stung, it didn't disrupt his good humor in the slightest. But after his laughter died down, he tilted his head to the side in the faintest bit of curiosity. So work brought her here too at first? But what was this about studying?

"Oh? You're going to school again? Good for you," he offered, genuine.

He shook his drink around a bit and slouched back in his chair. Marisol was different from Wendy, that much was for sure. She seemed so much more stuffy. Formal. He had to admit, he didn't like that look on her, but who was he to chide anyone for their behavior? If anything, he should have been delighted to see the transformation that she had gone through. Another sip from his drink and he spoke up once more.

"So, with that new personality, you got a new name I should know?" he teased.

Little did he know that such was the case.

Topher stretched back in his seat and cracked his back against the edge of the backrest. He let out a relieved sigh and turned to glance at Marisol once again.

"I saw you saw my amigo profile. How 'bout it? Lookin' good, ain't they?"

To emphasize his words, he placed his drink down so he could grope his own chest. Smooth Topher, smooth.

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MARISOL SIMONE

Her words were met with a laugh. Maybe it was good not to change. Sometimes that comfort that came from routine really helped to put things into perspective. Her avoidant reaction to the shameless display he offered only made him laugh more. Topher reached across the table with a playful nudge and then sat back.

"I'd do my best," he admitted. "I know I seem like the type to forget names but that's just with people I screw around with. You're different."

That admittance weighed heavy. The two had a past that whether or not they were proud of it, they had to acknowledge that the two were linked. Death was a dirty business, but they both came out the other side. (Topher himself never came out, but he didn't have to share that detail with Marisol right off the bat.) After what seemed like forever, his face softened as he took another look at her.

"So you're doing better with yourself? You seem it. I don't know how to describe it, but you seem happier. I feel kinda bad being a ghost of the past that just decided to pop up."

He seemed... Genuine, surprisingly. Another sip of his drink and the moment was ruined by the sound of Topher attempting to suck what little liquid remained at the bottom of the cup. A few shakes, and it seemed the drink was done for. A pity, he really seemed to enjoy it. But at least now he could focus time on his former colleague, if that's what he could properly call her. It felt off to call her a friend, as she didn't seem to approach him with the same ease that he did her. But maybe that was just a touch of anxiety that came from years long forgotten.

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MARISOL SIMONE

Marisol huh? It was a nice name. Like a cat seeking affection, he couldn't help the way he leaned into her palm as she delicately placed a hand on his head to caress his locks. (How long had it been since someone had been so gentle with him?) His smile curled his lips, genuine and true as he managed to meet her gaze. It wasn't like Wendy to be so awkward, but alas he could get to know Marisol as timid and quiet.

"I think I can manage with Marisol, I like it. But I'll call you Mari too, don't worry."

A breath escapes his lips, one that's laced with annoyance, as his phone buzzes. He hated to cut the soft moment between the two of them short. But work did call and it became paramount. It was just a message from one of his fellow associates in regards to a meeting point. With a roll of his eyes, he typed away at the screen and then sat his phone face down on the table.

"Sorry, sorry, you know how it is with work," he sighed.

Then he realized. It had been nice actually seeing Marisol again. Part of him realized just how much he missed her presence, as she had been a constant in his years prior to joining Revocs. It felt like such a long stretch to say given that their interactions involved work, and Wendy had been so... Dedicated. (It didn't seem like the right word to him, but it fit in his mindset for now. He remembered how vicious and thorough she was with the way she dissected.)

"I'd like to keep in touch. I'm sure you don't want to be reminded of the past, but it's beneficial for someone to be in contact with people who know the trick of the trade. And since you're here to study, maybe you can get me in touch with someone in the medical field."

A simple offer, but he also didn't want to make Marisol feel obligated.

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MARISOL SIMONE