It wasn't that Red actually never spoke, it was that he didn't need to to get his point across. It was, however, true that as a result, he'd sometimes go weeks without speaking a word.

May and Leaf called him the "strong, silent type". Winnie did, too, but when she said it she rolled her eyes.

Then, of course, there was the matter of Lyra. No one was sure if she was actually on the dense side, or if she just played the part well, but either way, she refused to ever take Red's hints and usually made him say what he meant. Out loud. With real words, not just grunts, sighs, and facial expressions.

Green had asked him once why he hadn't yet slaughtered her in a Full Battle for disrespecting him like that. He'd simply shrugged.

The truth was one of those things he couldn't explain without words, but he knew it, and that was enough.

There had been a day some months earlier, shortly after Lyra'd first arrived at their house in the Indigo Village, when he found himself just standing behind the couch, watching TV. "Why don't you sit down?" she questioned, pointing at the empty seats; they were the only two in the room.

He had just shrugged, not even looking over at her.

Without warning, she'd slipped behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her hands on his chest in a way that was uninvited and unwarrented... but oddly, not unwanted. It reminded him of the way he'd lean on Green when he was tired, except in this case the girl was at least a head shorter than him, not slightly taller, and so her head rested softly between his shoulders.

"Why are you such a secret, Red?" she'd whispered, the weight of her breathing contrary to his own. "I've been here for two weeks and I've never heard you say a word. Do you just expect everyone to know what you're thinking, or do you expect them not to care?"

Out of the corner of his eye, out the sliding door, he saw his beloved Pikachu and her semi-permanent accessory, Marril, playing together in the back yard. Pikachu was smiling the broadest he could remember, probably since they'd returned from Mt Silver.

He wondered why he hadn't pushed her off his back yet. Then he wondered why he hadn't answered her yet, either.

"Dawn says you're mute," she continued, sighing softly between thoughts. He could feel the heat of her breath even through his shirt and vest. "I don't think that's true. I think if you were mute, you'd know sign language."

Where did she come up with these theories? What was she thinking, period, and why was she talking so much in the process? And yet, here, with only him around, she seemed so much calmer than her public appearance, her words not needlessly hurried or loud, her thoughts complete, her demeanor overall more respectable.

They met the same way twice more in that week, with her leaning against him and talking softly, and him still not speaking in return, only listening. On that third meeting, just as she was going to slip away again, he'd turned around quietly and looked her in the eyes for the first time since they'd met.

She had smiled, and he had found himself with no choice but to smile too.

The fourth time they met was in the hallway by the kitchen, with several of the others enjoying dinner – and apparently Brendan getting his ass kicked at Mario Kart – in the next room. Lyra had opened her mouth to talk to him again, then closed it when she saw Lucas walk past, waving slightly at him.

As soon as Lucas had passed, Red had leaned forward, tipped her hat up slightly, and kissed her forehead, replacing her hat and carrying on his way before she had a chance to speak to him.

She'd stood in the hallway for several minutes after, listening to her heart beating and staring at the wall.

The fifth time was when he finally spoke to her. They were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, Leaf between them but now fast asleep. Without provocation he'd simply began to talk, telling her about how long he'd known Leaf and Green, about the day he'd met Pikachu, and about their first gym battle together.

When Ethan sat down in Red's place a couple hours later, neither Lyra or Leaf had moved. Lyra barely spoke to either of them that night, and Ethan had told everyone at breakfast the next morning to stay away from her, as she was clearly ill.

It was after the next time they'd written that she'd started acting like her normal self in public again, and the two days were close enough together that Ethan stuck by his theory and went on to conclude that she'd actually been sleepwalking the entire weekend.

The reality had more to do with Red speaking to her again that morning, only this time, he'd been the one to embrace her quietly from behind, resting his cheek against her hat as he told her about his struggles with Team Rocket. He'd just began the tale of his conquest of Johto when they heard someone walking down the stairs and he'd released her quietly, but not before pressing his lips lightly to her cheek.

She'd still been touching her cheek when May wandered groggily up to her, noisily pulling a bowl from the cupboard as she asked why she was just standing there like that.

"I just realized I'm not dreaming," she replied, simply and truthfully, and May brushed past her in search of her cereal.

Red was the only one in the house who actually had his own room, having taken the time to break down a wall and refinish the small attic at one corner of the second floor some months before. Had Winnie lived with them already, she likely would have made an inappropriate comment about his motives, but it would be two more months before she and Blake moved in with the small collection of champions, so for now, Brendan took that cue.

When she walked into his room for the first time and found that the only furniture was a king size bed, that Green's coat was still in the room, and knowing that some nights, Leaf just never came to bed, she suspected the accusation was probably very, very true.

He never told her to lay down next to him, to let him hold her while she listened to the next round of his stories, but he also never told her not to. She awoke the next morning still in his arms, still atop the blankets, and still fully clothed aside from her hat and stockings.

For a few minutes she'd laid in his arms, listening to him breathe, before he stirred awake and leaned over her quietly.

"Good morning," she whispered, speaking to him for the first time in over two weeks.

"Good morning," he repeated, leaning down to kiss her lips, lingering there for just a moment before he stood up and retrieved his vest.

She returned each of the next three nights, listening to the tales of the full life Red had lived in his 17 years, sometimes sleeping alongside him, sometimes returning to her own room. Each time, their parting kisses grew a little longer, a little more passionate.

On the following night, she paused outside the door, hearing faint voices inside. She leaned closer, listening silently until she was quite sure of what she heard; Leaf and Green's voices, both groaning softly in ecstasy.

The next night, he told her about them. About the history the three shared, about the decisions that had lead to their current relationship, about the fact it was why Green didn't live there full time, and about how it was the obvious secret that no one discussed, because even though he was still the champion, it was unlikely the public could ever accept their choices, and he wasn't sure those in the household even could.

She left that night without their customary kiss, let alone anything it had evolved into.

For two more days, she didn't come back, and they exchanged nothing except polite nods.

Not because she was mad at him. Not because she wanted him to herself, instead of shared with two others.

But because hearing him scared of anything had left her in the most unsettled state of her life.

She returned to his room a day later, oblivious to Ethan's new upgrade of her status from "sleepwalking" to "zombie".

Neither said a word as she closed the door behind her; instead, their lips quickly found each other's, and they sank to the bed, their kisses a slow but rabid burn that lasted on its own for some time.

She'd slipped his hat off for him, followed by his vest, then watched wordlessly as he'd taken off the rest of his clothes on his own, neatly folding them all on a small shelf beneath the rows of trophies that covered one wall. He'd told her before that he trained with his pokemon, and Lyra wondered as her eyes traced his body, which scars were from training, and which were from true life and death battles. What damage did one retain from saving the world, let alone more than once?

Her own clothes were removed less ceremoniously, left in a heap by the bed before she curled up against him again, his lips pressed to her forehead for several beautiful minutes before they even began to kiss again.

He was a skilled lover, especially (she assumed, at least) for his age. His fingers knew where to touch every curve of her to make her moan and sigh with pleasure; which ways to knead her breasts to bring a heated flush to every inch of her; and of course, the right corners inside of her to caress to make her entire body arch above his oversized bed, shuddering, his name falling from her lips for only the second time she could remember.

More importantly, though, once she'd regained her breath and rolled over to begin touching him, she heard what had been missing three nights prior when she'd stopped outside his door.

The sounds of Red moaning softly under her fingers and lips, of him voicing his ecstasy as she nipped along his shoulder, of him whispering encouragement as she pulled her hair from her pigtails and then crouched above him, breathing deeply and letting her eyes shut in anticipation.

They made love twice that night, resting briefly between. The entire time, Lyra couldn't help but think about how she'd never felt so close to someone before... and never felt so distant, either.

She tumbled into his arms as they caught their breath from the second time, Red holding her close with one arm while the other gently tucked the blanket around them both.

"Goodnight, Lyra," he'd whispered, kissing her forehead in the same spot he'd kissed it the first time.

The sigh that escaped her after was the single most meaningful sound of her life; one of realization that he'd never said her name before that moment.

Leaf had grown suspicious of Lyra's frequent absences, so despite their new intimacy, their private visits grew more and more rare. Somewhere along the way, however, that stopped mattering, as he had already opened up to her, and now spoke freely with her, even in public.

Green and Leaf were his partners, his soulmates, his destiny.

But in the end, it was Lyra who had taken his heart, and that was the last secret he would ever keep.