I had every intention of writing this earlier. Yesterday, actually. I had every intention of doing a lot of things yesterday.
But I pretty much passed out after work. The place closes at 9 and customers were coming in until half past that. I didn't get out for a long, long time. Then I had to forage for late-night food all over town. :|
But anyway. I wrote this for pokeprompts "fresh air" blitz challenge. The inspiration came from me struggling to open my window to get fresh air at like 2:30 AM last night. Yes, I actually had to use a hammer to pry it open. Haha. I'm tired, but I hope that didn't do too much damage to my writing... It may have. So... please let me know if you see a mistake. I'd appreciate it. xD
Title: Playing Pretend
Summary: He never thought spending the night in Hotel Grand Lake could bring about so much imagination. Or that the one that wore the pants in the relationship actually wore a pink skirt.
“I’ll get this. Just have faith in me.”
She watched him, thoroughly amused, as he struggled to open the window he treated much like an enemy in battle. He curled his long fingers beneath it and tugged it upwards in vain multiple times. He swore lightly under his breath, pounded his fists in frustration on the sill with so much force she thought he might just crack it open. He stomped his feet a few times, on the verge of throwing a tantrum, and all to open one Hotel Grand Lake window.
While distracted, she got up, and wandered aimlessly down the plush-carpeted hallway until she found a tool she figured would be useful.
“Move,” she instructed him as she returned with a slightly rusted hammer in hand.
He jumped away at first, not expecting her to be wielding something so dangerous, and then tried to grab it from her. “Hey,” he said when she refused to give it to him, “I’m the man in the relationship, Hikari, so I will handle the stuff that requires muscles. You
She backed away and rolled her eyes. “All right, Jun. All right. Get going, then.” She thought of the pickle jar he failed to open the week before, but bit her tongue and refrained from insulting him anymore than she already had.
He grinned triumphantly. “Watch this. It’ll be real slick, guaranteed.” He put one of the locks between the prongs of the hammer, and twisted. It didn’t budge. He tried again, and chipped some of the paint off and onto the floor, falling like snowflakes. The third time around the tool slipped from his hands and right onto his foot. “Ow!” The young trainer hopped backwards on one foot, his eyes watering without his consent, or approval. He turned away in hopes she wouldn’t see.
Hikari stifled a giggle and picked up the tool from the floor, and tried it herself while he remained distracted by his swelling toes. In just a few mere minutes she had both the latches and the window wide open, and both of her feet still useable.
Jun grimaced from his corner of the room, but kept silent, and suddenly felt as if he didn’t wear the pants in the relationship, even though she wore a short skirt. A pink
She ignored his pathetic plight and leaned forward on the windowsill, breathing in the sea-soaked breeze that rolled slowly into their room like the waves they rose from. It tasted a lot like salt, sand, and even a bit like the sun that had long faded away. The milky moonlight that had replaced it streaked across the floor and shadows at their bare feet, highlighting his wound and her pale, untouched skin.
“Hikari, duck!” he shouted from across the room. Before she could even blink, her old neighbor had crawled across the room and laid in wait beside her.
As a group of tourist passers-by walked past their window, she found her head forced down by one of his outstretched hand, as if he knew some secret plan of theirs that involved an untimely demise for the both of them. After many years of friendship, and now something a little more, she obliged immediately and got right into the game with him. She loved moments like this.
They both peeked slowly over the sill, observing the oddly-shaped bunch from afar.
He pointed to one person toward the end of the group as furtively as possible, and chuckled. “I bet that one had a big burrito for lunch. Right after a ton of bacon for breakfast.”
The young Champion felt a smile turning the edges of her lips, but held back for a moment. “Don’t be so harsh,” she scolded him. She paused a long while, the smile freeing as she saw his pouty, guilty look set in. “I’d say he had a low fat blueberry muffin for breakfast, then rewarded his good behavior and went with a real greasy pizza for lunch.”
The two laughed for a long while, picking out various characters from the bunch and making up stories for them, histories and romances. They determined the first one they had picked on stuffed pillows under his shirt for disguise and actually worked as a secret agent, that his wife and two kids also had the same job. The head of the tour group actually owned a giant ranch and bred all sorts of legendaries there despite the odds; the photographer a gym leader from some foreign land. They created unexpected love triangles where no connections clearly existed, letting their imagination run as wild as the growing tides even long after they’d all disappeared.
Eventually, a comfortable silence settled between the two, so quiet Hikari listened intently and swore she heard the stars twinkling and winking up above. She could feel the exhaustion weighing down her eyelids, all her limbs and bones. She leaned on his shoulder at one point, half-asleep and completely content and at home in the new imaginary world they’d built.
“You know,” Jun said, breaking the pleasant peace they had built, “we have to share a bed.” She looked up and saw the beginnings of pink blooming on his cheeks. He nervously scratched the back of his neck.
“It’s not like we haven’t before.” She laughed.
“But I mean, that’s when we were kids.”
“What’s so different now?” Her eyes glinted mischievously in the light, which made him incredibly nervous.
“We’re at a hotel, alone, and sharing a bed. It just feels like a honeymoon or something to me.”
“Well, since we seem to be good at pretending, why don’t we just say it is?”
She practically leapt to her feet, and held out her arms. “Since you’re not so strong today, how about I carry you
bridal style to the bed instead?”
“I’ll fine you for that,” he grumbled, up and scooping her up before she expected it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life, as if dropping the few inches to the floor would kill her.
It seemed like lead filled his feet as he made his way to the bed. “Your legs are trembling. Just put me down. Clearly I’m too heavy for you.”
“It was all that muscle you built prying open the window earlier. Told you to let me do it.”
Determined, he managed, though in the home stretch he tripped and they both landed on the paper-thin sheets in a tangle of arms and legs. As he rose, he realized he had her pinned beneath him and tried to quickly remember how to breathe.
“It’s okay,” she said, holding back a grin. “It’s our honeymoon. It’s allowed.”
She pulled him down beside her, giggling almost uncontrollably. “I’m kidding. Calm down.”
“I just know pretty girls like you.” He glared at her, but then wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her close to him.
“They like to take advantage of handsome men like me.” He pressed his chin gently on the top of her head, enjoying their closeness and warmth despite the slight chill in the breezes.
“I would have if you had opened the window properly.”
He sighed. “I guess that makes me the wife tonight, then.”
“Remember when we used to play house outside?”
“You always, always
took longer than me to do your hair, even when we were just pretending. You’ve always been the wife. Always will be.”
She buried her face in his chest, closing her eyes slowly. “Goodnight... Wife.”
He repressed a shudder. Definitely going to open that window tomorrow on my own.