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It's unfortunate that life has to return back to its normal routine. Trips like the one to Verdanturf are both a blessing and a curse - a treasured retreat, and a sharp reminder of the actual complications in their situation alike.[break][break]

But that doesn't mean Calla is one to avoid the opportunity to at least have Uriah over when the opportunity for having the apartment to herself for a night presents itself.[break][break]

Not that she doesn't trust Kieran Roth or anything, but well...awk.[break][break]

The sound of a knock at the door sends her skidding across the kitchen, and then hallway tile in fuzzy socks. Slipping and sliding her way to the door until she can pull it open. The clack clack of Furia's tiny claws follow - chiming a greeting from behind Calla's ankles before she can get any words out.[break][break]

"Hey!" It's stupid, isn't it? How instantly breathless she sounds. A warm smile still pulls across her face at the sight of him. "you get the sugar?" 

Blue eyes drifted back to Paxton, sharpening with curiosity. “Councilwoman Livy?” she replied, head tilting one notch to the left. “No…can’t say I’ve managed to pull that sort of meeting off just yet.” Would she be eager to do so? Of course. She knew the council member’s name. She knew her position before being a part of that council. It was important. People in the journalism field could make a mark, and then sustain it.[break][break]

But Calla herself was still a small fish in a big pond.[break][break]

“Well…” her expression faltered, brows knitting together as a tiny frown marred her expression. “I’m still figuring that out.” It was enough to start with herself first, and it had taken a lot of work and sacrifice to get to where she was now. Even if it didn’t seem all that impressive yet.[break][break]

She didn’t say anything else just yet– too focused on running down the same list she’d given the cashier earlier. And from their expression, they recognized her. She couldn’t do anything else but shrug helplessly, though.

[break][break]

+ paxton concordas [break][break]


[break]

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Comfort comes easily with him, she’s realizing. Calla can’t recall the last time she ever felt the sensation so easily, or found herself so willing to laugh. All those silly parts of herself are drawn out into the light, even in serious moments like this one. Something about Uriah makes that effortless.[break][break]

So when he laughs, so does she. And when the space diminishes, pulling away is the furthest thing from her mind.[break][break]

It’s a sort of creature comfort that she doesn’t usually allow herself. It sneaks up on her, and before she knows it, she’s found herself tucked against his side in the hazy aftermath–a warm quilt from the back of the couch pulled down over them.[break][break]

She’s never considered herself a cuddly person, but it’s nice. Her face turns inward to press a kiss against the slope of his shoulder, but she doesn’t say anything just yet. Despite the ease, still halfway convinced that if she’s the first to speak, she’ll inevitably find some way to mess up.

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She huffs when he has to lean back enough to help with the buttons, but she’s impatient enough to not be stubborn and insist she keep trying for herself. Her hands work to push the shirt off of his shoulders so that it falls away, and then her arms are hooking around his neck again to pull him closer.[break][break]

Careful exploration makes her breath snag and flutter in her throat, drawing shivers under her skin. Her own hands slide down to press flat against his back and then draw along his spine.[break][break]

Even now, she smiles against his lips. Her eyes sliver open to look up at him as draws back slightly, heat heavy in her cheeks and hair fanning out around her like a silvery halo. “Hi.” A dumb little laugh follows, because it’s ridiculous to greet him now, but she does do all the same.

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The last thing she wants to do is turn tail and flee. That’s the weak thing to do. She feels soft and weak and pitiful as her abomasnow trails Kieran’s tyrantrum. It makes frustration twist and fester in her stomach, but she also thinks that she’ll only make things worse. That day on route 110 with Uriah and that particularly aggressive bewear comes to mind.[break][break]

And she supposes it doesn’t matter, so long as she can keep her eyes on her brother it’s fine. “Kieran! Are you alright?” For the time being, any of her little irritations have faded. Next she cranes to look back over her shoulder, only expecting the others to be following after finishing off the victreebel. Instead, Greyson is soon bolting by them on the back of his rapidash— pursued by yet another Pokémon.[break][break]

But where’s Uriah?[break][break]

Chad catches up in no time, running alongside her abomasnow as they follow the path through the foliage that the tyrantrum mows down. The FLAMETHROWER that blasts back the kartana answers her prior question just before his shout catches her attention. “Are you sure?” she yells back, reluctant to leave Uriah behind to deal with the brunt of what’s left.[break][break]

So much for finding a campsite.[break][break]

S6p0S7mJ

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She follows the pull, hands sliding down from his face to loop her arms around his neck. Relief curls through her, easing her tensions and insecurities in being so prone with him. It's not some cruel trick or an idyllic dream. It almost feels serendipitous - if she were a more daydreamy person. Maybe there's a tiny part of her that still is, saved from childhood and buried down deep.[break][break]

Layers start falling away, and Calla doesn’t make any attempt to stop it. If anything, she encourages it. Static clings to the ends of her hair from the fabric before she haphazardly smooths a hand over it. She’s much more interested in snagging his lips with hers again.[break][break]

Any lingering chill in the air draws goosebumps over her skin, but it doesn’t bother her at all. She feels warmed from the inside out, and her own hands move to fumble with the buttons of his own shirt. "Dumb buttons," she grumbles, words buzzing against his neck where her kisses have drifted. Apparently she's not all that great at multi-tasking if it doesn't involve a day planner.

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Her eyes roll, contrasting with the dumb, insistent smile that creeps across her lips. “Ugh, yes, a lot,” she huffs playfully, “are you going to make me keep saying it?”[break][break]

Still, warms her when he agrees. Any doubts she had slip away.[break][break]

There’s a flutter in her chest as the remaining gap between them closes. Both hands lifting to his jawline as she eagerly returns the kiss.[break][break]

She’s not drunk this time, but the thrill is still there. Buzzing under her skin. Driving the need to be closer. It would be stupid to say this wasn’t something.[break][break]

It’s practically undeniable.

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Bit by bit, the pull is there, but they almost seem to be playing some strange game of chicken. When he speaks again, though, his words quickly throw her.[break][break]

“What?” A disbelieving laugh creeps free, and she gawks at him somewhat. Mouth hanging partially open as her brows shoot up, she sets her glass to the side and abandons it so that her other hand can join her first over his.[break][break]

“Uri, I’m the one who fumbled that night, not you. You were just being honest.” She sighs, lifting his hand and turning it in hers so that she can kiss his knuckles. “You shouldn’t have to feel like you can’t be.”[break][break]

Peering up at him over the soft ridge of skin and bone, the curled corners of her smile are barely visible, but still very much there. “I like you too. A lot. Like, kinda freaks me out a lot.”[break][break]

She can at least laugh at herself a little bit right then. “I’m not used to that, and…I don’t exactly know what to do going forward, but..I dunno, I think it’d be nice to find out?”

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It’s funny— there’s like this magnetic pull there drawing them closer, but at the same time they’re still tiptoeing around each other a bit, aren’t they?[break][break]

“Yeah, like I said.. cozy.” A nervous giggle follows.[break][break]

Removed from the bar itself, the privacy allows for a little more vulnerable exposure—even if it is nice, like he says. Weirdly enough, though, she’s grown more comfortable with the idea of being open in a way that goes beyond her prior drunken shenanigans.[break][break]

At least with him, specifically, anyway.[break][break]

Her free hand tentatively strays to find his. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just glad you gave me another shot.” One she’s begging herself to not fumble.

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Calla tucks her knees under herself, smoothing out her skirt before taking the offered glass with a quiet thanks.[break][break]

She chews on her lip as she turns the wine stem between her fingers. Biting down on the smile that slips across her face as he fumbles. "You're not so bad yourself, you know?"[break][break]

Finally, she scooches a little closer on her knees before taking a sip of her wine. "I'm really glad we decided to do this." There's a thrill that comes with it, despite the setbacks that came before.