[attr="class","text"]

Seamus saw Isolde first, her delicate figure seated on a bench. A few people moved through the room around her, observing paintings up close and speaking to each other in hushed voices. But Seamus only had eyes for the white-haired woman who awaited him.[break][break]

"Hey," he greeted her, lowering himself to the bench beside her. Then he glanced at her Chatot and offered the Pokémon a slight smile. "Hey, Lucy."[break][break]

No other words seemed necessary. Instead, Seamus finally allowed himself to view the art. Directly in front of them was a large painting, warring tones of dark and light dominating the canvas. At first, Seamus looked at it with mild curiosity, but when he read the title, his eyes went wide. They snapped back up to the figure in descent, seeing her in a whole new light.[break][break]

He could not help that his gaze lingered, too, on her nakedness. Not for the first time, Seamus imagined Isolde bare before him, his hands on her skin. But now a painting filled in the gaps of that mental image, making it seem all the more real.[break][break]

Clearing his throat, Seamus finally tore his eyes away from the artwork and looked down at Isolde. "Is this yours?" he asked, feeling stupid for his question. Of course it was hers, but what else was he supposed to say?[break][break]

A heat flushed his cheeks and ears, but whether it was from lust or social awkwardness, he did not know.

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

At the appointed time, on the appointed day, Seamus disembarked from a Corviknight taxi in Slateport City's Upper District. The art gallery in front of him was smaller than he'd expected, but then again, Isolde Blythe was a university student. She probably had to work her way up to something as grand as a museum.[break][break]

Inside, the front lobby was brightly lit, clean, open. A receptionist smiled cheerily at Seamus and welcomed him to the gallery. He barely glanced at her, instead grabbing a brochure from the desk. He hoped it contained information on how to locate Isolde's exhibit so he wouldn't have to speak with another person.[break][break]

No such luck. With a sigh, he folded the brochure in half and stuffed it into a jacket pocket. Then he set off, heading deeper into the building to locate his… friend? His sister's girlfriend?[break][break]

His date?

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

When Isolde stepped out of the hot spring, Seamus' eyes followed her movement, envious of and annoyed by the cotton dress that clung to her figure. But instead of exiting after her, he sank down further into the water until it touched his chin.[break][break]

"Mmm," was all he said in response, a sour expression coming over his face — one she thankfully could not see with her back turned to him.[break][break]

Voices cut into the silence, breaking it. A small family approached their little pool from the other side, young parents and a little boy. Seamus watched with growing contempt as they laughed and chattered away, as if nothing had just transpired between him and Isolde in that same spot. As if Seamus wasn't tearing himself apart inside between loyalty to his sister and the desire for her girlfriend.[break][break]

As if Vivienne wasn't suffering silently in a hospital bed.[break][break]

Annoyed enough to change his mind, Seamus rose out of the pool with a loud, abrupt splash. He padded over to the bench where he'd placed his towel and snatched it up so he could wrap it around his waist.[break][break]

But when he looked over to Isolde to say farewell, his frustration faltered. He could not speak to her so roughly. It wasn't her fault. His expression softened as he said, "Saturday at three, okay? Text me the address of the gallery."

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

Seamus had nothing to say to Isolde's idle comments, which was not a new phenomenon. He was simply the kind of man who spoke only when necessary. It had never been a problem since Vivienne always spoke enough for the two of them, but in her absence, Seamus' silence seemed more pronounced. He wondered if Isolde minded his stoicism. She never showed such an indication before, but she always seemed to prefer Vivi's company over his, at any rate.[break][break]

Yet Isolde was not pushing him away or avoiding him. In fact, she was drawing closer. Seamus only noticed after a moment. He tensed, ready to put a respectful distance between them, but her blue eyes were so alluring they may as well have been hooks to secure him to the spot.[break][break]

"Resolutions?" His throat felt dry. Swallowing hard, he briefly considered her question before replying somewhat lamely, "I don't know. Maybe take up a new sport or hobby. Something that fills up my time. What about you?"[break][break]

Subconsciously, he turned toward her, ready to meet her. Willing.

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

Living alone had never occurred to Seamus, simply because he had always lived with Vivienne. His earliest memories included her, and the foster care system could not separate them. Vivi always threw a tantrum whenever the administrators had tried.[break][break]

Yet the car crash had thrust Seamus into solitary life. The apartment he shared with his little sister had suddenly become empty, full of her possessions but devoid of her presence. He hated it. The rooms felt too big, too silent. So when he moved to Hoenn with his sister's unconscious body, choosing a residence with roommates seemed a natural choice.[break][break]

"I wouldn't even call them friends. Just roommates. Acquaintances," he admitted, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment at the admission. In moving to Hoenn, he'd left behind all the friends he'd managed to make — and keep — back in Galar. "I don't make friends easily, you know."[break][break]

Isolde's probing question about more than friends, though, caused Seamus to raise an eyebrow at her. Why was she asking? Did she want him to find a girlfriend? He was notoriously bad at keeping them, since they never seemed to understand how important Vivienne was to him. Like he shouldn't need to be her keeper.[break][break]

But if not him, then who?[break][break]

"All my roommates are guys," Seamus said pointedly, his amber eyes boring into Isolde's blue ones. "And anyway, I'm not interested in anyone I've met since moving here."[break][break]

It was a half-admission. He looked away, his face and neck flushing with heat.

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

The familiar hesitancy that characterized Isolde returned in force. A pang of disappointment ran through Seamus, and for a moment, he reconsidered the compromise. He thought to insist they meet at her apartment instead, where they could have some privacy, where Isolde could freely speak about her thoughts and feelings to him without worry.[break][break]

He thought about sitting close to her, about leaning toward her to examine some artwork, about her face and her mouth being so near his that it wouldn't take much effort to kiss her. And then her bed would be right there—[break][break]

Seamus licked his lips, the movement subtle. Shifting in his seat, he felt grateful the cloudy water of the hot spring hid his lap from view. "The art gallery, then. Are you free Saturday afternoon, around 3 pm? We can meet up then."[break][break]

As for her question regarding his own residence: "I'm in Lilycove, not far from the hospital. An apartment. I don't live by myself, though — I have roommates."[break][break]

It was all Seamus could afford with the kind of money he made.

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

Seamus had seen Isolde smile countless times before, but the way she beamed at him now sent his heart racing. At that moment, nothing else mattered except that he had caused such joy to bloom within her.[break][break]

An instinctive and primordial feeling stirred within him, an urge to protect her, to make her smile at him that way again and again.[break][break]

"I'd love that," he replied in earnest, his own lips curling into his rare, crooked smirk.[break][break]

And then Isolde's uninhibited wonder faded in an instant as some kind of revelation dawned visibly on her face. Seamus raised an eyebrow at the way she sank lower into the water, her face — already flushed with the heat of the water — growing redder still.[break][break]

Perhaps she wasn't actually ready for him to visit her residence. Perhaps it contained things she did not want him to see, evidence of the difficulties that plagued her since the accident.[break][break]

"Or we could meet at your school, if that's a better option. You have artwork there, too, right?" he offered, hoping it was an acceptable compromise.

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

Even though the answer was obvious to both of them, Seamus shook his head. He refrained from speaking as she continued to explain the woodblock printing, giving her his undivided attention as she made gestures in the air.[break][break]

Her demeanor changed as she spoke. Usually tense and flighty, like a bird about to take wing, Isolde visibly relaxed, her face lighting up as she described the artistry.[break][break]

A warm sort of pleasure curled within Seamus' chest as he observed her. She deserved a peaceful, uneventful life and a calmed mind. The accident had been devastating for her as well, robbing her of memories, leaving her troubled.[break][break]

He wished he could soothe her aches and make those troubles disappear. He could not help Vivienne in such a way — not now, not yet — but he could help Isolde.[break][break]

"I'd like to see them sometime. The ones you're making," Seamus said at last, his deep voice expressing a quiet sincerity. "Will you show me?"

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

Isolde's permission granted, Seamus settled back against the rock that made up the perimeter of the small pool. Steam rose languidly off the surface of the water, and his body flushed as the heat suffused throughout his body, bringing redness to his face that hid the awkward blush at finding Isolde there.[break][break]

"It's really nice, actually," he agreed. Even sitting down, the water came up to the middle of his chest, and he could drape his arms across the edge of the bath to rest them on the stone. "It'd be even better with a cold beer or two, I think."[break][break]

Seamus let his gaze wander over the traditional Hoennian décor of the bathhouse: the bamboo fencing, the artfully maintained shrubbery, the native trees. The atmosphere was peaceful, calming.[break][break]

A balm for the soul indeed.[break][break]

Turning his amber gaze upon Isolde once more, he asked her, "So what have you been up to lately? Anything fun or interesting?"[break][break]

Making small talk seemed strange considering how long they'd known each other, but without Vivienne's constant chatter, silence seemed unusual. Not uncomfortable, just unfamiliar.

[attr="class","ooc"][break]

[attr="class","text"]

Seamus had heard of Petalburg City's famous hot springs and had even promised Vivienne they would take a trip one day to enjoy them, but that was when they'd been younger, without the means to actually make the journey. Now that the hot springs were within reach, the dream seemed like one that wouldn't actually come to pass.[break][break]

The very thought made Seamus want to do nothing except sit in Vivienne's hospital room until she woke up, but strict visiting hours meant he had to find something to do with his spare time. He'd recently gotten in touch with Team Rocket for some work, but they didn't always need him.[break][break]

So that's how he found himself at a Petalburg City bathhouse at last, scrubbing the dirt off his body in the men's shower room. An advertisement for the bathhouse promised that the natural spring would heal not only his body's aches but also his soul's.[break][break]

It was ludicrous, but he was bored and had nothing better to do.[break][break]

After rinsing off the soap and putting on a pair of flimsy cotton shorts — the bath was co-ed, apparently — Seamus made his way down the small stone path to the pool. The bathhouse itself was built around three natural springs, which were open to the night sky above. The smallest hot spring had some privacy due to a decoration of stones and shrubbery, while the larger two pools accommodated larger crowds.[break][break]

As he was not a people person, Seamus avoided the larger baths and their occupants — a few elderly people, as well as a group of older teens — and made his way to the smallest one. He removed his flip flops and eased himself into the water that was almost hot enough to scald.[break][break]

It felt amazing. Though his body tensed at first, the heat soon seeped into his muscles, and he felt himself relax little by little. He found a rocky bit of wall to sit against and leaned back, content.[break][break]

Only then did Seamus realize he was not alone in that small bath. The shock of white hair put up into a bun was familiar, and so was the startled face of the woman sitting only a few feet from him. She wore a cotton dress that the bathhouse provided, though as a strapless garment, it exposed her creamy neck, delicate décolletage, and slender shoulders.[break][break]

Seamus cleared his throat, alarmed by Isolde's presence and the strength of his reaction toward her. "Issy," he said, momentarily at a loss for words. "I didn't see you there. Did you want to be alone? I can leave."[break][break]

He shifted in his seat, ready to exit the pool if she said yes, but part of him — a gnawing, thrashing part of him — didn't want to leave.

[attr="class","ooc"][break]