“So what emotions are you missing there, anyway?” Cyrus asked her as they walked along the streets of Veilstone through the hubbub of the carnival around them.
“Um, well there’s a few,” said Cynthia, rustling through the pages. “Joy, for one. Awe, inspiration, desperation…” He pulled her out of the way of opposing pedestrian traffic before she got run over by a group of excited young children. “Thanks,” she said with a smile. “Oh, and love. That one’s missing, too.”
Cyrus rolled his eyes. “Well, don’t get your hopes up,” he sighed. She grinned and moved a bit closer to him, but Cyrus pretended not to notice. “Hey, are you hungry?” he asked, spotting a cotton candy stand out of the corner of his eye.
Cynthia followed his eyes. “A bit,” she said.
“Cotton candy sound alright?”
“Yes please!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up like a small child’s. Cyrus chuckled and led her up to the stand, handing the worker a few Pokédollars.
“Not going to mark anything down for that?” Cyrus asked as the worker spun the cotton candy machine.
“Nah, don’t you remember? We got amusement sometime last week.” Cyrus simply rolled his eyes and smiled. The worker gave him a large cone of cotton candy, which he in turn gave to Cynthia. “Thank you!” she said happily, biting into the pink fluff. “You know,” she stated as they resumed walking, “you really aren’t that bad of a guy.”
“Glad you hold such a high opinion of me,” he said.
“Hold on, I’m not finished. You’re actually really sweet, you know?” She held the cotton candy up to him, and he took a bite, despite the fact that he didn’t care all that much for the stuff. “There aren’t all that many nice guys out there. But you’re one of them.” With that, she sent him another adorable smile.
Cyrus sighed. “Come on, Cynthia,” he said. “You know I’m in no way a nice guy.”
“But you are!” she almost shouted, grabbing his hand. “You just don’t seem to know it!” Cyrus stopped where he stood, blushing madly at the warm of her hand around his. They stood there in awkward silence for a few seconds; then a loud bang rescued the both of them. “Oh, the fireworks are starting!” she exclaimed. “Hurry, Cyrus, we need to get a good view!” Not letting go of his hand, she began to drag him towards one of the upper-levels, and his legs woke up just in time for him to follow.
They made it up to one of the makeshift “viewing platforms” just in time for the true start of the show. Most of the lights from the shops and stalls around them dimmed or flicked off, so the city was a perfect pitch black for the fireworks. The colors lit up the sky, reds and blues and yellows and every color in between. Cynthia watched them with wide eyes, never letting go of Cyrus’s hand. Throughout the show, Cyrus found his eyes continuously drifting to her, to her beautiful blond hair, to her slim, perfect figure, her mesmerizing grey eyes, her innocent smile…He felt a slight pain in his chest every time he looked at her, and he didn’t really like it. How had this woman suddenly become so important to him? It had been three months since she started the stupid checklist. Three months, and suddenly here he was, holding her hand and watching fireworks with her and…and wanting her, and he didn’t know what to do! What had happened to the stoic, emotionless Cyrus he used to be? What was he now? Deep within him, he suddenly realized that maybe Cynthia was right—maybe he wasn’t completely heartless, completely emotionless.
Softly, he squeezed her hand. Surprised, she looked up at him; then, with a smile, she squeezed back and moved closer to him, until she was leaning against him. Cyrus let go of her hand and moved his arm to wrap around her waist. She, in turn, laid her head on his shoulder and sighed softly, and Cyrus smiled and pulled her close, and the two stayed like that, watching the lights.
