[attr="class","wildtemp"]

[attr="class","wildtemp"]

panic rings in her ears, deafening and disorienting. the entirety of her small frame trembles and she's positive that if she weren't in the presence of someone else, she would have entirely lost it. miraculously for both him and herself, she holds it together with a thin resolve. it's just a bug... a terrifying bug with giant pincers that were definitely about to snap her in half. god, how awful. her first instinct is to cry, the prickling sensation of tears clawing at her eyes overwhelming. a few manage to escape, even as she furiously swipes at her face with a haori sleeve. her second instinct is to scream and kick anything in her general vicinity. she almost does, too, but the flight versus fight duel ends with flight kicking into high gear.

her little legs move surprisingly quickly when faced with such a creature. tobu follows suit, glancing back toward the aggravated pinsir with hesitant eyes. he wants to help, wants to protect her, but he knows better. he's not a fighter and neither is she. both of them rush toward the indifferent man, faye with her arms flailing and tobu with a few quick flutters of his wings. he doesn't see her coming, his back turned in an act of abandonment. if she looked hard enough, she would find disappointment in the back of her mind. she doesn't, however, and instead all she finds is increasing panic with the sight of him moving to shuffle away from the clearing, away from her. "please," she whimpers, reaching out a hand as if her plead alone is enough to stop him. it isn't. instead, it's the shriek she let out a few moments earlier when the pinsir's presence had finally dawned on her.

only her shriek makes him stop and part of her is grateful he's not just throwing her to the bugs. it's a kindness she might not be able to reciprocate, even if it feels like more like an obligation than anything. of course, he didn't have to stop and come to her aid, not the first time, not now. she's curious as to why he even does, really, but it has to just be chivalry, right? not concern, not care, not affection... just a duty to protect as all men seemingly have. it's funny... her sister had always wanted a man to come to her aid, like a knight in shining armor. is this what she wanted? it feels weird, unnatural, uncaring.

she cowers at his back, protected behind the shield of his body. her hands claw at his haori, fingernails skimming across his skin in fright. it's embarrassing, really, but god, this is terrifying. to stare down a set of sharp pincers literally snapping at you? that's nightmare fuel for the woman, plain and simple. actually... she's definitely had a dream or two about that. there was no knight to save her then, however, and she simply awoke drenched in sweat instead, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in her ears. ugh, god, her stomach churns at the thought and her hands tighten their grip on the fabric of his clothing. "get rid of it," she whispers, once even tone now breaking at the seams. "please. i - i can't."

he does, even without her practically begging him to. this man, despite pissing her off to no end today, is efficient and strong. he takes the attacking bug in stride, displaying a clear dominance over this domain. it's impressive if she's being honest. better yet, it's impressive that he looks so passive while doing it. there's no change in facial features, no flash of emotion. instead it's just indifference, no matter what the circumstances are. an admiral feature, one she wishes she could possess. her masks only carry her so far and without them, she's just a childish girl with nothing beneath the surface but boiling anger and a phobia of bugs. and perhaps it is in this very moment that she comes to admire him, if only for his unwavering emotions.

it's over in minutes, the attacking pinsir now trapped within one of the man's pokeballs and she can finally breathe again. her heartbeat begins to slow back to normal, panic easing away from her body once the looming threat is no longer present. she doesn't release him, however, hands still clutching tightly at his haori. her eyes stay fixated on the ground, even as he turns toward her, unable to look him in the eye, not when there's evidence of scared tears still swimming in her vision. control, faye, control. realistically, it doesn't help that she's practically pressing her body against his own, her chest ghosting against his while it heaves in a frenzied search for more oxygen. in fact, that might just make it worse. no, wait... the next words that come out of his mouth manage to make this whole situation infinitely worse.

her composure fully cracks at the innocent question.

sure, his face lacks any genuine concern, but his tone is lingering with it. sincerity, actual concern, wonder. he just wants to know if she's okay and that is what really does it. the mask crumbles and the girl beneath is shaken, scared, vulnerable. honestly, she feels pathetic even allowing him to see this. her mind screams for her to lie, to brush it off as nothing and then shuffle on and away from him. she can't, however. she knows she can't and so, with a sudden sadness, she glances up at him. "no," comes the honest answer, tumbling out before she can cover it up. it sounds so broken and with a self-deprecating laugh, she looks away. "it's funny... i haven't been asked that in years." not since her sister died, since she shattered for the last time. she hasn't been okay since before that day, really, but she covers the damage up with pleasant smiles instead and no one mentions the way it doesn't reach her eyes, at least not to her face. they merely accept it and shuffle along but not him, never him. he calls her out on it instead, bringing her facade to the light and hammering little cracks into it until finally, it shattered beneath the sincerity of his tone.

a sigh escapes her, then, and she takes a small step back, refusing to look back to his face. even so, one hand still lingers in the fabric of his haori, having moved once he rotated to face her. it stays and surprisingly, so does she.

@ken
gonna catch corsola next post
bc this is already a novel <3

it's odd, really, to not hide behind a mask for once. it feels weird, foreign, wrong. as if she shouldn't be showing this side, showing this level of honesty. it's almost as if it's painful to even rip the mask away by now, the jagged pieces cutting her face as they go. it hurts. it hurts to be vulnerable, to be so small and fragile and weak. and yet, it offers a strange sense of comfort, of knowing that someone could see this side of her and not leave.

no, he doesn't leave. in fact, he stays, and she isn't sure which option is worse.

he stares at her, one of his hands moving to take her own. her breath catches in her throat, her body going still at the sudden warmth. it's comforting and radiating heat and god, she had forgotten what it was like to touch another living person. and in this moment, she understands what it's like to be starved of touch, to marvel at such a simple gesture as holding hands. it brings a feeling she can't describe to the surface and her chest feels tighter than before. panic doesn't rise, however. something else takes its place, something she doesn't understand right then and there. perhaps in time she'll come to understand this feeling and why it only has to do with him. for now she simply stares back at him, her small fingers curling around his. it's funny, she hadn't thought that her hand could fit so well in his.

the woman doesn't put up a fuss when he begins to lead her toward the waters edge. if anything, she welcomes his help, his gesture of caring. the silence that consumes them is comfortable and she's thankful for it in a way. there's no urge to fill that silence with empty words. no, instead it almost speaks for itself and she lingers in it, almost unwilling to break the spell that falls around them.

he does, however, in a display of something she doesn't fully understand.

his hand falls away from hers and she glances down, the sudden feeling of coldness overtaking the nerves of her hand. it feels wrong, now, and she inwardly curses herself for that. while she's absorbed in her thoughts, he takes the opportunity to scribble on a notebook and it's only the sound of paper tearing that draws her attention back to him. her face twists with confusion as he presents the torn sheet to her, as if it's the weirdest thing in the world. the confusion dissipates as she gingerly takes it, eyes scanning the contents. a small smile begins to curl at her lips, surprisingly genuine and entirely for him.

"ken," she murmurs, testing out the sound of his name on her tongue. it sounds pleasant, perhaps almost too much, and she resists the urge to repeat it again. does he find it just as enticing coming from her mouth? she doesn't linger on that thought, a light flush beginning to dust her cheeks. "faye," she offers, gesturing toward herself with cold hands. "are you sure you want to give this to me? you aren't afraid i'll abuse that?" and oh, she will abuse that number later down the line, when she can't sleep and needs to talk to someone, him.

she ignores the slight flutter in her chest when he says he'll find her, chalking it up to nothing more than slight anxiety. his attention shifts away from her, then, and hers follows with curiosity. a goldeen sits at the water's surface, cheeks bulging slightly. beside it, a corsola peeks out with bright coral limbs and she finds herself bending, lowering closer to the water. by now, the smile has grown softer, morphing at the sight of the water type. "hello," she murmurs, reaching out with that same hand he had just held to gently caress the tips of coral. they feel damp, water still clinging to their surface, but pleasant to the touch. the corsola coos, leaning into her hand without a second thought. ah, what a darling. "i love your color." it's a lovely shade and faye stares, almost in a trance. she's seen some flowers possess that same color but never as impressive as this corsola, never with the same liveliness to them.

her shoulder brushes against his and she turns away from the corsola for a mere moment, flashing him a surprisingly warm smile. and then, she turns away, back to the corsola and away from his eyes. together, they sit in silence, two water types enjoying their attention.

@ken
befriending corsola <3