gunslingerqueen | IC Contact + Overflow

[he doesn't let her slip his hand away. just sits there on the edge of the couch, like in a second he'd either go flying off it, certainly to fetch her something. or see how Pasha is doing.

he just watches her with those bright green eyes]

[Existing underneath his gaze is peaceful, relaxation comes in waves and continues to such an extent that he’d be forgiven for thinking she may have fallen asleep. The sure grip on his hand says otherwise.]

Hey …

[A too-long pause, she chickens out but tries to come off smooth about it.]

Ask me something. Anything.

[Its a go-to even when she’s sober.]

[oh...oh?? how is-- what's he supposed to ask her...Gladion once again is floundering, unsure of how to proceed]

....Was there someone else there?

[He could ask if the sky was blue or how many times the number 1 could be split or about cars which she also knows a lot about. Sky’s the limit.]

Hm? [What matters is that it’s a little easier to talk now.] You mean, when I went back home?

[he went right for the throat of it. Gladion isn't one to mess around, is he? right to it...]

Yeah. Were you completely alone?

At first. I just went to grab the most important stuff from my old place.

[The photo album, her father’s guitar, a handmade paper rose. Stupid, sentimental things.]

The man I’ve been trying to avoid just … Gave me a lot of trouble.

[he'd found her. he'd hurt her. Gladion's brow furrows]

How did you get away? And...where is he now.

I told you, it's not a Hallmark-like thing. I just want to be really clear that he's not my boyfriend, or an ex-husband. [Because it sounds that way, which is just insult to injury, another layer of discomfort Desiderio enjoys inflicting.]

Same as always, though: Be patient. Something will always come up even if it means waiting longer than I'd like. He's off dealing with family stuff.

....Where? [he says it without looking at her, his voice light

he doesn't care about hallmark-y things. his life's never been like that]

It doesn't matter. I took care of it this time, he won't find me unless I go back home, and now I don't have a reason to do that.

[... At some point, she'll have to ask for clean bandages, these ones are gross, but. Not now. For the moment, she looks at him, not looking at her.]

I'm being serious. Don't get any dramatic ideas in your head, okay?

[Like comforting the idiotic woman who hadn't known any better, or picking the wrong kind of fight - hallmark movie stuff, where it all ends well and the credits roll.]

I'm not dramatic. I'm perfectly reasonable.

[and he is-- he doesn't have a flair for the dramatics-- dramatic clothes to make his mom angry, dramatic poses, explosive anger]

He shouldn't be able to walk around.

A lot of different people shouldn't be allowed to do a lot of different things.

[The world is your oyster, until you have to swallow all of the dirt inside of it and avoid choking.]

Be perfectly reasonable and just stay with me until I fall asleep. [No, she can't bury her face into the back of the couch enough, but damn, if the attempt isn't made.]

I'll stay, of course. [gentles his voice a little. that doesn't mean he's going to listen to her advice.

if you have the power to do something, you should]

Did you get to eat?

[She has to believe that he'll listen, for now, otherwise she might never rest.]

Nuh-uh.

[Food is the farthest thing from her mind, but she does lazily poke at a covered section of her collarbone. Luckily none of the blood is visible.] ... Could you pick up some gauze and stuff later? There's money in my wallet it's, somewhere.

[Over by Pasha, actually.]

[he gives a very, very soft intake of breath-- fear there, worry-- shock too-- but then he nods at her]

Okay, sure. I can do that. Want me to pick up some fast food too? Something greasy?

[It's for the best that she's too relaxed to actually hear it, the anxiety would set her off, otherwise.]

Hmm. [He's not getting his hand back until she's knocked out, which won't be too much longer.]

That place with the milkshakes. [Did they actually get them? She was utterly smashed and can't remember but there were definitely burgers, and they were greasy.]

That sounds tasty. I might even try one of the weirder flavors this time. Like mint.

[he gently, gently rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, over and over.]

[A weird sound: concerned judgment over the idea of a mint milkshake, but she'd still find a lot of joy in watching him try it.] ... Cake.

[As in, the birthday cake milkshake that was on the menu, but went unordered that night. There's other stuff to say: Her extra room key is by the door, could he check on Pasha? Was he really okay with her leaning on him this way? But that rhythmic motion is comforting, and lulls her to sleep with an embarrassing quickness.

If he moves slow enough, Gladion can retrieve ownership of his hand.]

[his own breathing easing, he continues the motion a little longer, just to ensure she's truly in a deep sleep before he does slowly, so slowly, lay her hand at her side, and move.

There's a little Pokemon to check, and cake milkshakes to get. He won't be gone for long, much as he doesn't want to leave at all.]

[A wispy hum, she’s none the wiser as he goes. Pasha is in a similar mood thanks to the bevy of toys nearby. These days, Nariko doesn’t dream very much and that’s likely for the best. No matter how much time passes until Gladion returns she remains on the couch, a little more sprawled out but at ease.

Pasha is up, though, sitting on her hip, and blinking up at Gladion upon his return.]

[once he's certain she's comfortable, he turns his attention to the Pokemon again. Gotta make sure they're taken care of.

He puts a finger to his lips and whispers to Pasha]

She's resting. I'll give you some food now, okay? You hungry?

[the little one's got to be. at this age, they'll eat you out of house and home]

[Not entirely unlike the matching human in question, Pasha's eyes downright sparkle with the prospect of food. The Pokemon is not remotely concerned with launching itself off of Nariko's body which is ... Fine, the way she mutters and turns her face into a throw pillow speaks to the repeat offense.

Pasha marches over with what can only be described as a prideful strut.

But there's definitely food, right? Some for the adored little buddy, but also Nariko, whose stomach is voracious even on a normal day. Enjoy the twenty seconds of freedom because it'll have her up soon.]

[he winces a tad-- but when Nariko only stirs a tad, but returns to slumber, unbothered for the most part, he relaxes.

okay, get the Pokemon fed first. there's food for them, their trainer said. he can do this! just get the food she'd indicated, the little bowl, this is fine.

maybe he can call take out-- he doesn't feel the happiest about leaving Nariko like this. especially not with that vague story she gave him.]

[There are several bowls and three different bags of food, some hastily scribbled post-it notes to remind herself of which one to actually buy again. She'd really gone nuts at the store for this kid, and Pasha doesn't appear to be against the endless love and adoration, they make happy noises when the food is provided!

Much like their human trainer (???), just give them a meal and all was well!

He's right to be worried about leaving her alone, though. Nariko hasn't had a fever since she was a literal child, and unconscious like this, the uncomfortable flush helps morph a bad dream into a nightmare. When she makes a pained noise, Pasha stops eating.]

[he runs his gaze over the notes, just to make sure she hadn't decided to give the little one a different food than the ones out here, or any special instructions.

nope! just a happy, healthy Pokebaby.

happy until Nariko's noises have both youths turning their attention to her. Gladion goes as far as to leave Pasha there for a moment to join Nariko's side]

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