Trevor's hand was hot and moist as he pulled me with him, running down the stairs and out of the lab – I held in a hysterical laugh when I thought about the pattern forming there: me, running away from a lab because of Sycamore. I was sure, though, that the risk of running into Lysandre again is what put Trevor in such a rush.
We sat by the square and waited to meet the rest of the gang – when they finally showed up, they made an agitated, sick-looking trio: Calem, Shauna and Tierno, panting and sweating with their bodies partially covered in dirt. We soon learned that the exploration held its surprises – upon going deeper into the cave, Calem came across a couple of thugs cornering the scientist that worked there – they called themselves 'Team Flare', and they played low! Calem's espurr was seriously injured in a group battle, and was being scurried to the Pokémon Center after a long and slow ride down the mountain – the fainted Pokémon breathed weakly in his master's arms.
Trevor and I stayed behind after this brief explanation, watching as they all resumed their race. It didn't take long until my companion decided to join them, leaving me alone.
I was pretty sure Trevor only followed to get even farther from Lysandre – I thought I should have gone, too... Perhaps it would be healthy to show as much support to Calem as he had shown me when my Charmander was ill, but I figured the Pokémon Center would be crowed enough with the bunch of them there, and both Calem and the Espurr could use some space to get better. Thus consoling my own mind out of the neglectful friend it painted me, I sat at the lowest step in front of the aquarium, and though a cold wind began to blow, I waited for them.
When the wind blew colder – too cold to bear – I walked inside. There, Trevor would have regretted to stay with me if he had, for I spotted, in a safe distance, Professor Sycamore walking dolefully, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, gazing into the aquariums as Lysandre walked by his side – he seemed angry, as always, and talked nonstop, regardless of how Sycamore gave no sign of paying attention.
I watched carefully from the other side of the glass as they circled the place engaged in their one-sided conversation, until they stopped moving at some point. As if drawn by magic, or a sixth sense, Sycamore's eyes turned and traced their way to me. They shone with delight then, and a meek smile followed. I blushed and hid like a timid child, consciously aware that it was too late.
He turned back to his friend and finally spoke – judging by his expression and the movements of his hands, he did so in a most apologetic way –, and smiled as if he could charm Lysandre's anger away. It seemed to work, to some degree, for the latter showed no sign of being offended even though the first clearly interrupted their meeting with an arbitrary goodbye.
Without ceremonies, Sycamore began to walk my way. Upon spotting me, Lysandre's facial expression bore an extra-tensed muscle of rage here and there, and I could almost hear the thick leather of his gloves stretching and suffering as he tightened his fists.
"Don't mind him..." Sycamore, stopping before me, moved sideways, actively blocking my view from his intimidating colleague; and from everything else, for that matter.
"Now... that's better!" He smiled when our eyes met.
"Are... Are you in trouble or something?!" I couldn't help but ask, concealing a hint of annoyance by how he always seemed to pay his accounts to Lysandre.
"And why should I be? Have I done something wrong?" He smiled meanly, again investing in making me feel awkward.
"It's just that... You and Lysandre..." I couldn't find the words.
He laughed lightly "Why, don't worry! He's not as evil as he looks... and no, I am not in any sort of trouble."
"I'm... glad..." I moaned hesitantly.
"Are you, now?!" His smile stretched.
He placed his hands on his coat pockets again, took in a deep breath and just stood there facing me – his attitude said I'd better relax and drop my tense shoulders, for he was going to take his time with me.
"Well, Anne..." He began with a sigh "This morning was the second time I had to apologize to one of your friends for having them witness some unusual sightings of me, and try to buy their oblivion with petty lies..." He accused with a smile, which somehow managed to make it an even worse of a scold.
"But I... I didn't..." I energetically began... But once again, the words died away.
His brows furrowed in a comical pity expression "You put me into a delicate situation, dear..." He sighed, breaking "But don't worry... I am not mad... I have to say, though: perhaps this wouldn't happen so often if you didn't surround yourself with so many boys..." his voice crept in the end, turning a bit hoarser.
"What? You can't say that about Trevor!" I replied nervously "He absolutely adores you!"
Sycamore smiled, wondering: "He does now, doesn't he?" He pursued, now more composed "Yes, you are right: I am being unreasonable! It is only that boy – Calem – whose eyes decidedly say they hate me, as if I was taking something that is his..." He ran his hand through his hair, pulling it back and attempting to hide the annoyance caused by simply mentioning him "But the little one... he is outright adorable!"
"He's always talking about you, and I think he has read every single article you wrote..." I took the cue "...And that is the only reason why we broke into your lab today: I told him you had gone back to Lumiose, and he wanted to collect anything you left behind"
"That is devotion, no mistake!" His smile stretched, deriving his conceited pleasure even from being adored by a young boy such as Trevor. He cleared his throat then, in some light degree of embarrassment. "I do wonder why I cannot find a single trace of the same in you, however hard I look..."
Looking into his now cold, slightly sullen eyes, it took me a while to understand what he meant. When I did, I blushed violently, and he quickly changed the subject:
"Well... It is a good thing you came to my lab when you did though, is it not?" He smiled gently "I mean... you could have gotten hurt. Team Flare is no trifling matter... I hope everyone is well after that unfortunate encounter!"
"Oh... No! Calem, he..." I scratched the back of my head and looked towards the door, suddenly uncomfortable by remembering them – and realizing I had forgotten "He's okay... I hope..." I felt myself drop, ashamed of my own poor sense of friendship.
"Well, I am leaving today, dear Anne, though not as early in the morning as you assumed in your brave invasion..." – he teased me – "So pass on this message, if you'll please: Tell your friends I want to meet them all before departing, yourself included, of course! There is a candy shop I'm sure they will love just a few blocks away – meet me there in two hours."
"Why can't you just tell me what you will say then, so I don't have to come?" I bravely pleaded, my cheeks burning nervously all the while "I mean... Since we're already here, I'm sure you could!"
"Why, Anne!" His eyes widened in surprise. "What could have encouraged this idea?"
"I... I just don't want to go with them, that's all!" I explained against my will.
"What a spoiled little girl...!" He laughed, intimately amused "Longing for exclusivity, are we? Don't tell me you are jealous, dear..."
His face drew closer and his fingers captured my chin as I tried to pull away, driving my eyes back into his and producing that weird, instantaneous numbness effect in me.
He placed a hand against the pillar behind me and closed in with his ill-intentioned smile – so close that I could feel his warm breath brush against my face... Then his smile came undone and his eyes lit up, possessed by a keener sense of gravity: Just like himself, I only then remembered that we were in a public space.
"In two hours then, yes?" He drew back, placing a hand on his nape and subtly surveying his surroundings, making sure there were no witnesses to his perverted attempt – the numbness still held me. "Mind you don't be late. I see you then!" He waved his neutral, "there's-someone-looking" goodbye, and smiled, moving away. I followed him with nervous eyes.