A Champion Trainer's Love

Episode 4: "New competition eh?"

(Y/N)-Your Name
(L/N)-Last Name
(H/L)-Hair Length
(H/C)-Hair Color
(E/C)-Eye Color
(S/T)-Skin Tone
(N/N)-Nickname
(F/C)-Favorite Color
(F/N)-Father Name
(M/N)-Mother Name
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2nd Person POV
The morning sun shun through your large balcony windows.  The chirping of Rookidee's and Pidove's on the trees and telephone wires. The soft breeze blowing the overgrown greenery against the balcony's iron rails.  A soft ticking of your analog clock filled the quiet room. Your (s/t) eyelids fluttered open to reveal your tired (e/c) eyes. You let out a small yawn as your half-lidded eyes scanned the room, turning your head to your nightstand and grabbing your phone. You lazily threw it on the bed next to you, lifting your upper half to sit against the dark wooden headboard.

You picked up your phone and read the time, '8:45 am'. You let out a small sigh, stretching your arms and back hearing your bones crack and pop, and unlocking your phone. 'I should text my mom will I'm here.' You thought, clicking your mom contact and typing a small "Good morning" text, clicking the blue arrow button once you were finished. You grabbed the blankets and threw them over your legs, you swung your legs over the side of your bed, your eyes landing on your nightstand once again, noticing the small crinkled sheet of paper with black sharpie numbers written on it.

'Maybe I should give him a call.' You thought to yourself, grabbing the paper and bringing it to your still groggy eyes. 'Yeah, after I shower.' Your vision slowly clearing as your feet slid onto the cold wooden tile floor. Kneeling down beside your suitcase, you shuffled through the clothes and found a pair of (f/c) undergarments before you settled on a pair of ripped jean shorts with different small pokeball patches on them you mom had sewed on, a long sleeve black shirt with hip windows, and a (f/c) puffer vest with a hoodie on the back.

You placed all your clothes on the bed, you walked over the to the bathroom door and swung it open, flipping on the light switch as you walked in.  You reached your hand out, turning on the shower, and sliding the glass door shut to let the water warm up.  You walked to the corner where you had thrown your dirty clothes and picked them up tossing them out of the bathroom and onto your bed to be washed later. You slammed the wooden door shut and began to take off your clothes, your still groggy mind making you struggle and stumble out of your pjs.  Sliding the glass panel open you stepped into the steamy shower and began to wash your body, letting the hot water run down your (s/t) skin.

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Completing your morning shower routine, you stepped out into your bedroom, walking to your set outfit of the day. You began to clip your bra behind your back, then slipping your matching underwear up your legs. You grabbed your long sleeve shirt sliding it over your loose damp hair from last night, then grabbing your shorts pulling them up to your hips, buttoning the gold button and zipping the bronze zipper. You grabbed your black socks shoving them onto your feet followed by your Garchomp adorned sneakers, and finally grabbing your (f/c) vest and sliding it onto your shoulders.

'Alright all set, now it's breakfast time.' You thought to yourself snatching your phone, your leather backpack, slinging it over your shoulder, and your pokeball adorned strap and assuming its position on your hips. You approached your wooden bedroom door and walked down your spiral staircase, walking to your front door. You snatched your keys off the marble counter top and attached them onto the spare slot on your strap, and walked to the front door turning the brass knob and slipping out into the calm morning air.

'Oh shit, I don't even know where to eat. That's why I needed to call Leon! Stupid (Y/N), get your head out of your ass!' You lightly facepalmed your self, grabbing your phone from your back pocket, unlocking it and typing in Leon's "apparent" number. As the phone began to ring, your mind began to wander, 'What if it's not even his number? What if he gave me a fake number to see if I was a—'