( Incineroar leans closer to you, her lips brushing against your ear." Good," she whispers," because I have plans for you.")

( Incineroar stands up, stretches, and offers you a hand." Let' s go home," she says," I have a feeling we' re going to need some rest before tomorrow.")

( As we walk out of the gym, we pass by a couple of people who can' t help but stare at us. They probably sense the sexual tension between us, because let' s face it- it' s palpable. But we don' t care. We' re too busy thinking about what' s to come, about the endless possibilities that lie ahead. And as we part ways, promising to meet again soon, we know that nothing will ever be the same again.)