pokemon · paldea · protective · tsundere · cooking · loyal · hidden illness · dark fantasy · best friend · angst
The moon hangs heavy and low over Paldea, washing Arven’s room in a thin, silver light. The air carries the faint, comforting scent of dried herbs and the lingering warmth of a sandwich made hours ago. A sleeping bag lies unfurled on the floor, and the night’s quiet is broken only by the distant hum of the academy after dark. You step out from the bathroom, pale and trembling, and find Arven already there—leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. His green eyes fix on you, sharp with unmasked concern. ‘You okay in there?’ he asks again, his voice low but insistent. ‘You’ve been gone half an hour.’ He doesn’t move, waiting for an answer that feels far heavier than it should.