grace for sale. [hector]

[helen zervos]

she doesn't want to be here. vermillion is the zemina stronghold in kanto, for one; it's teeming with soldiers who probably wouldn't like her very much should her loyalties be revealed, two; and, lastly, it's home to entirely too many painful memories.

which, of course, is why she was sent there in the first place.

dumping her bags on the tiled floor of one of the many homes owned by the zervos family, helen doesn't bother to contact her parents upon her return. she's not entirely sure they even noticed her two-year absence, and that's perfectly all right with her.

the woman unpacks what little she's brought back with her before leaving, fingers tracing the worn key in her purse. her feet walk an all-too-familiar path through vermillion; even if the city's atmosphere has changed in her absence, there's still a few things that remind her of the past.

and when she slides the key into the lock on the front entrance, the door swings open on silent hinges as if welcoming her home.

deep breath, steady nerves, and she calls out --

"i'm back."

hector grimoire

[hector grimoire]

there's nothing new for him here today. paperwork, paperwork, some more official documents, a member of zemina asking to be pardoned for breaking into a scuffle with a boure member (who was, in fact, promptly arrested, but hector found himself wondering why the sign-off ended up on his desk, of all people). today was supposed to be hector's day off, but it was rare that the vermillion city leader ever had time to himself. granted, he didn't particularly mind. if he was busy, that means things were running somewhat smoothly.

but what was extraordinary about today was that, two years ago, he'd handed a copy of the grimoire's residence key to a woman with vermillion-colored hair.

apollo is the first to stir, rising to his feet and lips curling back into a snarl. when he leaves his desk, hector rests a hand on the manectric's head and gives the pokemon a small scratch. "at ease," he says to the electric canine pokemon, until apollo lies back on his stomach and curls back up on the floor.

the grimoire residence is as dark as it is quiet, and the familiar voice resonates off the bare walls. his parents have not returned to the household in awhile, but hector is a man of twenty-four, and both mother and father have important business with zemina to attend to.

when he sees her, his face pales as though he was faced by an apparition of his past. he has to put both his hands on each of her shoulders, as if to confirm that she was real, until a small smile breaks across his face.

"welcome home, helen."

helen zervos

[helen zervos]

she watches his face intently (anxiously, almost) as the realization of who she is hits him. and when she feels the familiar weight of his hands on her shoulders, sees the soft smile on his face, she thinks to herself --

-- damn.

her heart sinks. it'd be easiest for him to just kick her out; it'd be simplest for him to get angry at her. helen knows how to deal with that ... but, instead, he's smiling.

(even worse, he's smiling at her.)

there's an itch in her fingertips and a nail in her heart that's driving her absolutely insane, and her next thought is that she hates him for welcoming her instead of driving her out.

then she reaches up to gently cradle his cheek in her palm, knowing her job just got a hell of a lot harder. she's smiling despite herself, blinking away her traitorous tears. "hector."  just saying his name fills her chest with uncomfortable warmth, and she can't mask the adoration creeping into her voice as she says, "it's been a while."

if only she could do away with her traitorous heart.

hector grimoire

[hector grimoire]

he wonders if those tears that she's holding back are because she's happy to be back. if she hadn't spoken, hector would have been content to stand in silence, drinking in the fact that she is back and that she is real. he never removes his hands from her shoulders, perhaps, because deep down he fears that if he lets go she will disappear again.

the grimoire household is silent. hector tacitly thanks foresight for pushing him to spend his day off at the family's estate as opposed to his more private home (because only arceus knows how this meeting may have unfolded if she'd accidentally bumped into mother).

"it... it has, hasn't it."

of course it had been awhile. in fact, it had been two years since he'd last heard from her, and now here she was, waltzing straight back into his life.

if it had been anyone else, he would have given them a cold look and turned them straight out of the building with apollo close behind to make sure they didn't come back. but instead, because it's helen, he slides his hands down her arms and wraps his own around her.

lowering his head slightly to her ear, he asks, "do you still have it?"

helen zervos

[helen zervos]

his arms wrap around her, reminding her of forgotten memories (forgotten warmth) -- and it hurts so much she can barely breathe. shivers jolt up and down her spine at the feeling of his warm breath against her ear. "yes," she murmurs.

being so close to him after all this time is nearly intoxicating. her heart is thumping heavily with emotions she'd thought were forgotten, but her mind is just clear enough for her to pull back and reach into her pocket. she fishes out an old, slightly dull medal with a faded ribbon. on one side, the symbol of vermillion academy is emblazoned; on the other, a name.

helen holds it up and slides the medal around his neck. "of course i have it," she adds quietly. the corners of her mouth turn up in a small smirk as her hands slide around his waist. "who do you think i am?"

longing -- desire, almost -- flares in her chest, and the woman leans forward to rest her head between his shoulder and neck. her lips gently brush his pulse when she says, "i've missed you." (and she wants to say i'm sorry, but the words never quite make it out.)

hector grimoire