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Fame wasn’t a stranger to Leon, even after stepping down as champion, rather, with his untouchable status relinquished, his popularity only grew. It wasn’t noticeable in the everyday sense, yet during Valentine’s Day, the plentiful gifts stacking as high as nearly the battle tower itself made his reputation known and true.
Sure, he did receive an inordinate amount of gifts and letters during his days as champion, but they were mostly filtered by Oleana or one of her assistants. He prefers the more hands-on approach after all those years of sheltered comfort, even cleared out the day to read letters, however the hours of reading had tested his previously endless patience.
It was stressful enough to organise where the abundance of Applins he had received would return too even with the help of Milo and Raihan who were used to working around this time of year. It was almost too difficult to bear parting with those that looked him directly at him with sparkling eyes, so much so that he considered keeping some — well all, he can’t leave any out — and shipping them to Postwick to roam free. It wasn’t a smart concept, yes, but Leon was weak to cute Pokémon. Ultimately, he gave them all up to the Dragon and Grass leader, they knew better than him in this area which comforted him.
He did quite enjoy opening letters, save for the more inappropriate of the bunch. His favourites were those from kids that still had that whimsical admiration they expressed in crude, near illegible writing, often accompanied by a drawing of the same vein. They reminded him of Hop’s wonder.
Beside them, Leon had many more romantic admirers hoping to shoot their shot at Galar’s most eligible bachelor. Scented letters and an obscene amount of glitter filled his morning before he sucked up his pride and arranged for some staff to aid him.
He sighed sitting back against his chair as he slipped another letter out of the postal crate.
It was one of the few envelopes that caught his attention between the stale store-bought ones. The paper was a warm beige, flecks of imperfections were visibly scattered throughout, and he could feel the bumps of not quite smooth pulp that made the charming piece. All that was written was his name in large swoops of cursive.
The back was sealed with a wax stamp. It glowed a vibrant pink onto the envelope, and, at closer inspection, silver swirled around the edges. The signature on it was extravagant yet not something familiar.
Inside was a neatly folded sheet of the same paper as its covering.
My Prince,
The bees of spring could only dream to make honey as rich as your eyes and as sweet as your voice when it speaks those fond affections that I cannot confidently say I deserve. A smile as devastating as yours, I’m sure, can enrapture any beast or monster less terrible than I, as it so captivated my heart entirely.
My adorations of your blessings cannot be told in such concise tongue as I may fall into my grave before they run dry. Believe me, most cherished, as I say no deity could miracle this ache called love away from my chest, with only your touch being both the cure and the illness.
Oh, how I wish to be the one to save you from the tower your very people placed you on, my Prince, if only to serve my selfish desires. If you are unable to step down from your kingdom, my choice will be to rise to be with you.
May I be the one to meet you where you stand,
Yours forever and truly,
Lyrebird
The words all but swept him off his feet. His cheeks rose with the corners of his mouth, and he couldn’t help but hide it behind the letter from the staff. It wasn’t a smile for them to see anyway. He felt more like a giddy teenager than the Chairman of the league.
The fluttering beats of his heart flew into a swelling of Butterfree that threatened to burst right out of his chest. He felt as though he was held up by his heartstrings alone and would helplessly fall onto his knees if they so withered.
He leaned back and basked in the feeling.
Leon lived for it. It’s strange to say so openly how he loved feeling so alive with words so beautiful that weren’t even spoken to him.
He attempted to compose himself with a deep breath, carefully folding the letter knowing if he so much as glanced at those words, he’d turn uncontrollably smiley. It felt like the words burned through to his fingers and straight through his heart, he couldn’t help but smile.
The two other staff didn’t notice, or they chose to ignore the chairman, either way he was glad. He’ll admit he did spend a little too long playing with the letter’s corners, flicking it open occasionally, teasing its words to himself once again.
A ring from his phone intercom woke him from his lovestruck daze indicating a challenger on their way.
Strange. He had thought most of Galar was enjoying the love-filled day. He hadn’t been informed of any bookings today either so it must be one who sped through the challengers.
Slipping one more look at the letter, he set it down while he made his way out the office. Before he could even step out of his desk, there was a knock on the door. One of the staff members met with the visitor and promptly stepped out the room with the other not far behind.
“Maybe I should be a little jealous,” The visitor entered, heels clicking dully on the hard tiles, “All these people gifting the entirety of Galar just for my boyfriend.”
Piers stopped at one of the stacks of postal crates and picked up an obnoxiously glittery pink envelope.
“It’s lovely to see you, too,” This smile was one Leon didn’t try to hide, “I can’t help but wonder what you’re doing here.”
His partner dropped the letter back into the crate, dusting off the excess glitter while strolled towards his desk. Each step forward, Leon took a step back before he fell back on his seat as Piers looked over him with devilish glee.
“Errands.” Pushing the assortment of pens and papers out the way, Piers sat firmly on the table.
“And what kind of errands do you have all the way up here?” He played along, leaning forward in hopes of meeting Piers in the middle.
“Flirt with the Chairman while he’s at work, Arceus knows he needs more attention.”
“I like attention.”
“I know you do.” Piers wrapped his foot around the arm of the chair, pulling Leon closer to him. “Maybe I should have praised you more in my letter. I bet it would have made you squirm even more than I know you did.”
Leon wouldn’t dare looking away from those blue eyes even as Piers reached out and tucked his hair back, lingering on the strand before shifting to his fringe.
“Could’ve said how dawn and dusk are envious of this hue as they desperately try to mimic the colour every night and day passing,” His hands slid to hold his cheeks, “And how the stars belong in your eyes where all other bright things tend to lay.”
“Are my physical qualities all you find attractive? How shallow of you, my Lyrebird.”
“Not acknowledging them is just as cruel.” He moved his hands further down, dancing his fingers on the red fabric covering Leon’s chest, tracing the seams before resting his palm on the plush curve. “Of course, I adore that heart of yours. Sings sweet nothings, I remember writing.”
“I’m not all that certain you’re talking about my heart now.”
Piers chuckled something mischievous, but Leon cherished the sound.
“Maybe not but know that I do love everything about you.” He lent Leon a peck on the cheek, “Really, I came to save you from your tower. I plan to take you all over Wyndon, we can buy those dastardly matching caps from the CBD, I’ll buy the biggest bouquet I can find, and we can go to your favourite fatty burger place for dinner.”
“Oh, can we really?” Leon’s face shone bright, taking hold of his partner’s hands, “Wouldn’t that be too much? What about you?”
“You know I love anything if I get to do it with you.” He smiled soft before hopping off the desk, guiding Leon to stand, “Let’s go, I already told the staff you were leaving early so don’t worry your cute face.”
The chairman followed suit with unadulterated joy. He’d give up every title, every lick of fame and fortune if it meant being so thoroughly loved by this man was the only thing he could have.
.
.
.
To My Lyrebird,
Your words are worth more than any orchestra to my ears. No other musician can sing such words, no artisan can create, nor any chef can cook something so divine that it makes my heart flutter to the heavens above.
Nothing on Earth can hinder your lovely words from reaching me. The sun would carry them with the winds as do dandelion seeds, and the moon would glide them over the seas as light does.
My words cannot compare yet I hope their meanings reach you.
Lyrebird, I adore your very being. How your selflessness knows no bound for your people and how it extends to your beloved Prince. Care for me, I’ll put my very heart in your hands knowing well that you’ll fill it with boundless affection.
You meet me in my kingdom of clouds to pull me back to you. How I wish I could stay in your arms for all eternity.
My Love, if you meet me where I stand, I shall too with you.
Your Love, Your Sunshine,
Your Prince
“You are such a sap…”
“That’s the greatest honour one could bestow upon me, Lyrebird.”