Is this love real? (POKEMON) Gold x Silver - 8

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Silver's P.O.V

On Tuesday it rained. Heavily. All day. Wednesday was no better, and by evening the water was dripping through the ceiling of my flat, making brown patches on the carpet in my living room. I had to move my TV and N64 into a closet to stop them getting wet and short-circuiting. There were pots and pans all through the hallway and the the front room, which Gold had placed in an effort to catch the droplets. Unfortunately, he had tripped over more than one and the floor wasn't spared the damage.

I had phoned the management in a rage as soon as I came home from work and found my apartment had converted into an aquarium. I had a long rant at the secretary, who didn't sound much older than twenty, about false advertising and how I had not been informed that my house was a plan for a fucking mould museum. She started crying before I was even halfway through my enthusiastic speech and asked tearfully if I wanted to speak to the person in charge. I told her it was about fucking time, all set to give whoever had the nerve to sell me this crap apartment in the first place. While I was at it, I thought I'd say how the agent oh-so conveniently forgot to tell me that the place was ridden with damp, too.

But the manager was having none of it. She obnoxiously talked over my raving, telling me primly that the ceiling capacity was mentioned in the papers, and it was my own problem if I hadn't bothered to research what capacity was 'resistant to copious amounts of rainwater', because I had accepted it when I'd signed the contract. She went on to 'helpfully' ask why I thought the place was so cheap in the first place- like I was some kind of idiot! I slammed the phone down so hard that the back cover fell apart and the batteries clattered to the floor. I swept the pieces up with my bare hands, swearing up a storm. Then I accidentally cut my left hand on the plastic shards and bled all over the kitchen tiles.

No sooner had I wrapped my throbbing hand in kitchen roll than there was a knock on the door. And oh joy, Mrs Bellamy from next door complaining about my 'obscene behaviour' and honestly, kids these days and their rotten language, and did I know that when she was young children were meant to be seen and not heard?

"Thanks for that, Mrs Bellamy, really." I had to interrupt. "I'm just going to go and hang myself now, so there might be a bang when I kick the chair over; but at least then you won't have to put up with my foul-mouthed lunacy. Good night." And I shut the door right in her gaping face.

I stalked off into my bedroom, which mercifully, along with the bathroom and parts of the kitchen, had been spared from the downpour. I sat down on my bed with my head in my hands and sighed. If I was a weaker person, I'd definitely be crying with frustration. How could my day possibly get any worse.

I heard the bathroom door unlock and open. For a moment I seriously considered carrying out my 'commit suicide' plan. What was I just saying about about things not getting any worse? Well. They just got worse.

Gold crept nervously over to me and sat down beside me on the bed. I purposely shifted away from him. I wasn't in the mood to deal with his bratty behaviour, and if I was being honest, I was just damn pissed off and wanted to hurt something. Gold looked down at his lap. I couldn't see his face, but I wondered if he was pouting. Probably.

He didn't fool me. He wasn't doing anything in the bathroom. He was hiding in there, waiting for me to stop my screaming session. Hearing my silence, he had obviously thought it was safe to come out. I'd have preferred it if he'd stayed in there. I'd just broken the record for the worst day of the year, and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to face Gold without snapping at him.

He didn't say anything like I'd expected him to. He just shuffled back onto the bed, and positioned himself behind me, the bed dipping as he did so. I gasped and hunched up when I felt his hands touch the back of my neck.

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