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The meadow's breeze lead Jasmine's eyes to flicker open. She lifted her head over the man beneath her, asleep on the beach towel. Here they lay on a date, over the lush flowery fields of the Dragon Holy Land with the blue skies and burning sun. Wispy clouds rolled by, followed by grazing winds and nemophilas that launched its baby blue-eyed petals into flight, blending into the sky before fluttering down on the couple.
Jasmine's hazel eyes glazed through the rough contours of Lance's lips, nose, and cheeks. She caressed over the tough edges of his muscles, from his clavicle down to the pectoralis. Slowly, she felt Lance's beating heart along with the rising rib cage before it settled back down. Hearing steady breaths escape his mouth, she grinned. He was asleep. The bento she had prepared must have tired him out, but she paid no mind. A nice rest after a good meal was a pleasant feeling she knew too well.
"You needed this," Jasmine whispered. "Rest, love."
When was the last time Lance had slept? This Champion with a mighty heart, fierce as a dragon, always charging through the obstacles like a soldier on the battlefield. From those intense Pokémon battles in tournaments to life-threatening G-Men missions – Lance refused to concede in his tasks. Always sticking to his passion of justice and righteousness as his influential and powerful presence towered over many across the world – ensuring dominance. Because that was the type of man Lance was.
Yet, here he was at his most vulnerable. Asleep, something rarely shown unless in his private atmosphere. Jasmine just happened to come into that – she had invaded it slowly. The one presence Lance could never overcome – because it merged with his own.
Jasmine wiped strands of Lance's carmine hair away from his forehead. The spikes of his hair were coming undone, despite the amount of gel he used. Nonetheless, she loved his bed head. Much like he loved hers. She reminisced how one night, he removed those hair clips that resembled oranges. And he would be amazed over how long her hair was. Jasmine was a sleek brunette, and Lance delighted in playing with its strands as he kissed her in the heat of passion.
It made her blush thinking about it. Jasmine had been with Lance for almost two years, and he still made her feel butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't bear the thought of him waking up and seeing her like a lovesick puppy. It would be embarrassing.
Contrary, Lance wouldn't see her that way. If he were to wake up, he would see Jasmine as a nymph. A beautiful, tender maiden who held his heart. He was so hopelessly and madly in love with her. As shown here, by her side at his weakest point. He even had his cape as a blanket over them whenever they would rest like this. A loved piece of clothing he shared with Jasmine. Only her.
It was soft and comforting, imbued with his scent. Sometimes it had seen better days when torn from those ardent crime missions, but Jasmine cherished it. No matter the form. She pulled the cape closer as she went back down on the towel, snuggling onto Lance's chest.
Suddenly, his strong arm hovered over, holding her into place. Jasmine smiled, before falling asleep.
Blue petals rained down on the cape.