A, B, C...

The pokemon opens its eyes, gleaming blue eyes confessing its hatred for, for...it can't remember. Its beak opens as it screams its roar of pride, letting out a huff of disagreement of nothing. The darkness of the cave overshadows its appearance, but it likes it that way. For he, the one who brings forth destruction, does not like being dispersed in petty chats and begs of mercy.

He despises all the creatures living here, most especially the jolly ones. The same episodes of waking up and carrying rocks, leaves, fruits and long blocks of wood, provide it to their family, and is left with none for himself - he loathes it. He never wants to have his own family. If it is possible, he would still decline. If not, he would be suited that way. Providing for a wife would be hard enough. He blocks his view with his human-like wings, dismissing the painful thought. It's all about him, isn't it?

D, E, F, G...

The wind blows the rag feathers that hangs on his neck. He glares at the cold evening wind, silently cursing the full moon for beaming its light at him, as if it came to him as its victim of its obnoxiousness. Bright lights hurt his eyes, his brain - his heart. He prefers it if all three are dark, empty, black. He likes anything like that, voids of darkness is "kind of his thing", he believes.

He wishes he could block the rays of moonlight that pounces on him, with his wings like before. But he can't, it's so addicting, so...lovely. It isn't dark - no, not all - it's bright, cheerful, and he likes the invisible smile it tells him, saying a wordless I-love-you that he just gets attracted to, like a magnet. He resists the good feeling, the feeling those hardworking pokemon who get nothing in the end. He just wants the cavity like feeling, the sadness that sinks into his chest like a fang. He doesn't want the good feeling to grow, he doesn't want it to become the Best Feeling, he wants the Worst Feeling, just because. In fact, he prefers to spend a life comforting himself.

He blocks the view once more, with a snappy and grim look of rejection.

H, I J K, L M...

He decides that the overgrowth of grass snatches his talons too often, tall trees once more disguising his appearance as a mere tint of black, red and white in bird's eye view. He, being the snide and dark gentleman, prefers to walk alone, not even to fly freely in the sky. It may be because he could be in plain sight that way, or perhaps of his foul mood. He doesn't seem to know, nor does he seem to care. "Fuck all these emotions," he murmurs, kicking fungus and wilting flowers that come across him. "Fuck it all..."

He finds that the tall trees on both sides stop multiplying, a large clearing widening before him, with a still and calm lake that's wider than his height vertically, which he believes is nineteen feet, but he doesn't remember if counting is so important to think of, as of now.

He hesitantly takes slow steps on the countless patches of grass, burdening them with each of his talons' weight. Once he gets an inch before the lake, he stares at his reflection, one of abusiveness - the abusiveness he knows that is of his soul. It distorts in dual circles.

"Hey, you should try the water. It might help you."

He cranes his neck upward, shifting his position to his normal, crumpled one. He sees the owner of the child-like yet beautiful voice, one that is of concern and gentleness. He is taken aback, beak left dropped and eyes left shocked. He shakes them off, giving his facade of a beak that curved downwards, grumpy and distraught, after giving a smirk to the tall deer before him. He is tall by half of her height, which is around nine feet, but he really isn't skeptical that it doesn't matter.

She is the first to make him feel that way.

"What makes you think you're brave enough to talk to me, you midget?" He rudely comments, fake laughter filling the air. But she senses his insensitivity well enough, as if she developed a second sense that is as good as her sight.

"C'mon, you won't fool anyone that way," she says, unhurt. "And, you really don't look like you're fit and in good shape, you've suffered so long without food." She warmly offers a smile, a smile not fake, unlike his laughter.

He struggles to contain the rage for not affecting her feelings, thinking that she is a robot, those tools the lowly humans build to make their place in life. "I'm fine." He doesn't usually does that, but he wants to do that to her, for reasons he didn't explore enough to know. "Kid, what's your name?" He begins to question, eyes sparking with hope, unknown to him.

"Xerneas." She beams, bowing before him, as if he is a lord. (He likes her style, he notes.) "You?" Her eyes move up in his direction, not willing to take off her gaze until an answer comes.

"Yveltal."

He sounded casual that time, he suddenly realizes...

"You have a good name."

...but he doesn't realize what's about to happen.

N, O P, Q, R, S...

He is there again, staring sorrowfully at the starry lit sky, as the moon disappears with the fog and massive fluffs of clouds that cover it from even the eagle's eye. He wants it to come back this time, missing its company. He doesn't want to struggle with the good feelings anymore, he thinks it cliché - not to mention tiring. And his own well-being? It doesn't matter to him anymore, or so he believes.

The girl he met before, she is like the moon. She is like its soft smiles and her willing-to-do offers. She is like its wordless I-love-you, except it's a message of I-like-you. She doesn't love him, he accepts, but he's willing to love her, if she asked. "...what a beautiful name..." He breathes unknowingly.

"Who has a beautiful name?" Her voice rings to his ears, thoughts storming out of his head, completely forgotten.

"Er," a pink color appears, but unrecognizable due to his red feathers. He gives in.

"...you."

He can accept that she thinks he's joking. She does it anyway, and what she does makes her charming, he believes. He can accept that she'll bicker at the remark, he does that anyway, and that's what makes him selfish and hated by all. But instead, this came out:

"...thanks."

He blocks his view again, only out of shame this time. But he could feel her smile, and he silently grins as well.

T, U V...W...

He pokes his head up the water, feathers all soaked and wet. He's beaming back at the sun, mentally telling it to tell the moon that he loves it back now. He makes splashes on the lake with his talons, spreading his wide scarlet wings freely now, he doesn't like merely walking to places anymore. Another head pokes up, a blue-furred one, with antlers that light up with the many gem-like colors it carries. She stifles a few giggles, shaking her head at the same time.

He feels happy now, but it's not cliché-happy, unlike before. It's extraordinary-happy, and he thinks that it fits his chest comfortably.

"Hey, hey, try this," the eternal life pokemon says, eyes lit with the Best Feeling, the one Xerneas told him once is called, joy. He smiles at the sight. "Try what?"

"This," she breathes, and she dives down the large lake. He continues to smile, bright blue eyes looking with keen interest. His beak makes what seems to be a gawk, bracing for whatever surprise she may have.

And she dives back up, aiming to hit his face. Yveltal closes his eyes, but too paralyzed to block himself with his wings. Instead, she presses her snout to his beak, and opens her mouth to kiss him. She blushes, but too obviously, since her fur doesn't blend well with the color red. Yveltal doesn't care.

"I love you," she mutters, not releasing their close contact.

X&Y...

"I love you...too." He finally replies.

After all, this is all about both of them, right?

Z.

I just felt like being original here, lately, I've been experimenting on mixing regular plots with each other. Tell me what you think!