What's Cooking, Good Looking! [ Arven x Reader ]

6 Millilitres of Touch

˖˚⋅𓐐 ˚₊⋅𓌉◯𓇋 ˖˚⊹ 𓎩 ‧₊˚

You strapped the carriage on to Muddy, ready to leave the cave. The rain had ceased, apart from some droplets falling every now and then, probably the last ones for the day. The smell of wet dirt and grass, along with the sun that creeped its way through the now disipating clouds, made for a comforting travel.

—Ready to go?— you spoke to your companios.

Arven closed his backpack, securing his cooking supplies as well as his still humid vest that he had wrapped in your jacket as per your insistance, so that his stuff wouldn't get all wet. He threw his bag over his shoulder, and nodded in response to your question, Mabosstiff agreeing with a bark.

As you made your way down the hill you had to grab onto your wagon, pulling it up a bit from behind so that it didn't trip the horses's legs. Arven walked next to you, and his partner trotted beside yours.

—Uh... Do you need help with that?— he broke the silence— It seems heavy.

You shook your head: —Nah, I'm alright. I've dealt with worse— your vision lost focous, as if you were looking into some distant time— ...Way worse.

—Like...?

—Ever tried dragging a fridge all the way up Glasseado Mountain?

—I think I'd rather toss my food in the snow at that point.

Once the terrain became flat again, the dark type pokémon jumped in the carriage, and you hopped onto Mudsdale's back, offering your hand to Arven to help him up.
He wasn't very excited to ride on the pokémon's back again, as he kept having trouble keeping his balance. He now appreciated how smooth the rides on Miraidon usually were. With the exception of their landing back at Area Zero.
Despite that, he resisted the instinct to hold onto your waist. Why was that idea so awkward, he pondered. He'd grabbed onto Florian's waist before, or anyone that happened to sit in front of him on the living electric scooter, multiple times. There was no reason for this to be different. But every time he glanced at you, at your back, he could almost hear your voice, taunting him, looking to embarrass him.
Stuff like this normally didn't faze him, but with how you kept appearing in his life, as he was sure you'd continue to do, he was froced to do more than just ignore it, like usual.

—Hey— you called, turning you head a bit to somewhat face him but still be able to see the path ahead. He tilted his head slightly, indicating that he was listening— Can I ask you something?

—If you say something stupid I'm jumping over to the wagon with Mabo.

You giggled: —I guess it depends on weather you find it dumb or not...— you paused, feeling a bit self aware— What is the academy like? Is it fun? Going to school, seeing friends?

Arven was taken aback.

—It's normal, I guess? It's really not that different from other regular schools. Aside from like, how gigantic it is and the dorms and such— he shrugged, not having much more to say— What is, um... What's your school like?

—...Like nothing... I'm a dropout.

—Figures.

—Hey! It's not like I wanted to drop out, okay! I had to, to start working.

—Oh... Are your parents not good financially? If you don't mind me asking, of course.

—I don't know about them. I haven't seen them in years. I just work for myself and my team.

Arven fell silent. Now he really didn't know what to say.

He had conflicting thoughts on what to do next, but ultimately decided to endure whatever mockery you were to make out of him.

He scooted closer to you, and tho he was hesitant, he had made up his mind. You felt his arms wrap around you, hugging you, seeking to comfort you, as he pressed his forehead onto your shoulder. You flinched. His touch was more than unexpected. Your attention fully shifted to him.

—Not that I'm complaining but, you don't need to do this, you know. I'm fine on my own.

—Yeah, I used to say that a lot too.

You opened your mouth, thinking of something funny or witty to say, anything to lift the mood, but your lips fell shut again.
You took a deep breath in, and let a deep breath out, and placed your hand on top of the boy's, who held onto your shirt with a little more than pitty.

"So you too, huh".

Mabosstiff looked up from his place, whining at the sight of his trainer seemingly under the weather.

It felt as if he was sad on your behalf. Trying to get by in a delivery man salary was hard, sure, but you'd grown fond of the life you had, you were content with it. And you no longer thought about your parents very often, nor did their memory upset you. You were, as far you were aware, truly fine. But if you had to be honest, it was... nice, to have another human being feel for you, hold you; As if they truly cared about you, cared for you.

—Thank you...— you muttered, intertwining your fingers with his, your expression soft and relaxed.

He couldn't hear you quite well. Maybe because your voice had been too weak and quiet. Maybe because he had stopped paying attention the moment you initiated such delicate touch. His stomach was tight, his muscles tense, and his pulse a drum against his chest, marking the fast paced rhythm of a total mess of a song.
Was this what cardiac arrest was like? He didn't know, but he swore it felt as if his ribcage was going to break due to the sheer force of his heartbeat.

"Are you doing this on purpose? Do you have any idea of how you're makin' me feel?" , he pressed his lips together.

Falling for a guy like you was out of the question for Arven. He had a long list of lame teen crushes, and he refused to add any more names to it. There was no way.

—God, you're gonna make me blush if you keep holding me like that— your sudden comment brought him out of his mind palace, needing to take a moment to register what you had said.

He was the one to blush as your thumb danced around the back of his hand, swayed by the movements of the horse. Tho unintentional, your gesture felt weirdly loving.

He jumped: —S-Shut up! I'm trying to be nice!— he then lowered his voice, not wanting you to hear him: —...I'm so fricking touch starved, what the hell...!

˖˚⋅𓐐 ˚₊⋅𓌉◯𓇋 ˖˚⊹ 𓎩 ‧₊˚

Me and my "the cause of death written on Arven's grave is touch starvation" agenda writing the most cliche shit to ever exist 😍😍

Also yei they're bonding! Through trauma!! Family issues best matchmaker!!! *REAL**NOT CLICKBAIT**DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME**AT 3 AM**YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT*

Edit: srry i forgor to put some recipe style thing on the title