the only stone the gardevoir will find from removing the outer layer of dirt is the most precious of stones: alexander stone, champion of hoenn.

footsteps echo from down the narrow chambers of rusturf tunnel, drowned out by the overpowering sound of someone singing. she has a smooth voice, melodic in a way, and he is almost drawn to it, perhaps curious to find the source. so he heads in that direction with a pickaxe in his backpack should he need it.

his flashlight guides him forward. it doesn't take him long to uncover the source of beauty, and color him surprised; his eyes widen a bit, eyebrows raising.

"you have a beautiful voice, miss alfric." 

he approaches with caution, mindful that their relationship is not on the best of terms. he walks on eggshells, careful not to break any as he nears her. he holds a smile on his face; the occasion asks for one.

"i am surprised to see you down here. this does not seem like your forte." 

as opposed to the greenery he once saw in her gym, rusturf tunnel is nothing but dark and brown. it pales in comparison but the pickaxe in her hand tells him why she's here. he reaches into his backpack for his as well. he nods at the gardevoir, then turns to cait.

"would you like some company?"

ALEXANDER STONE

she should have expected to run into him eventually being this close to his home. the real surprise is not seeing her here but rather seeing how civil she's being, especially considering how things between him and stormy have developed recently. he has no doubt that cait was there to comfort her, which means she must be fully aware of their situation. her expression gives away her true displeasure towards him. 

"as well as i can be." 

pickaxe in hand, he does the same motion as her and slams it into the side of the wall. thud. thud. thud. the rhythmic movements prove an able distraction from their conversation for moments.

"how is stormy?" 

he asks the question to challenge the tension in the air. there's no use ignoring it; it exists between them and the only way to rid it is to acknowledge it. his eyes narrow slightly, though mostly because of how dark it is in there.

every now and then he glances over at her to gauge her reactions and responses.

cait alfric

ALEXANDER STONE

sometimes all it takes is a single question. the hint of sneer is registered, accepted, but he doesn't give it a reaction. he swings his pickaxe one more time and jams it in the wall before releasing his grip. he turns to look at her as she speaks, giving her his full attention.

alexander appreciates her candor no matter how direct she might be. too long has she kept her thoughts to herself; to finally hear them is a relief. in a way, it validates his own thoughts on her as well.

only when cait falls abruptly silent does he finally speak. he considers his next question very carefully.

"would you rather she had picked you?" 

it's a thought he's had on his mind ever since the hospital visit. he remembers how frantic cait was: how she rushed into the room, the sudden change of expression on her face when she noticed him, and how she quickly composed herself in his presence. it's not subtle by any means, so the assumption has a basis of logic to it. still, it's like taking a shot in the dark.

cait alfric

ALEXANDER STONE

her reaction is expected but the gardevoir's is what catches him off guard. he's familiar with its evolutionary line as he's had his own for most of his life. psychic-types are interesting pokemon: though most of them might not be able to detect thoughts, they are awfully perceptive of emotions. he eyes the garevoir warily, noticing how it had made a gesture.

curiosity gets the better of him. he relaxes and allows the gardevoir's deep voice to speak to him.

"i am sorry." 

he gives the gardevoir a solemn nod before reaching for his pickaxe. he pulls it off the wall and starts the same process over again. thud. thud. thud. the sound proving to be rather calming in this tense situation.

"i have my reasons for denying her proposal, cait. you might not agree with them but this is what is best for her. with time, she will heal." 

he allows silence to envelop them for moments.

"i hope you can understand."

cait alfric

ALEXANDER STONE

she lays her emotions out bare, unafraid and unfiltered. there is nothing he can say nor do to calm the fire that rages within her so he does the only logical option: nothing. absolutely nothing. he lets her vent; his expression not once faltering even at the sharpest of words, harshest of tones. he remains calm and composed.

when she finishes she turns and leaves. he makes no movements to stop her; she's said what she has to, laid it all out in front of them. and he's glad that she did. because now that it's out in the open, they can finally start to clear the air. because it's as he said:

with time, things will heal.

he says nothing to gardevoir. his grip around the pickaxe loosens; it's only then that he realizes how hard he had been gripping it. he turns back to the wall and continues hacking away at the wall, letting himself get distracted by the thud. thud. thud.

cait alfric