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The rain is almost a relief, at first. The sun is at it’s highest point and the crowd makes the heat almost suffocating, so when Mollymauk feels the first drops on his skin he tilts his head back and grins. Beauregard—to nobody’s surprise—is grumpy about it, but Molly swears he sees her blush when Yasha gets out her umbrella and holds it above them. He steps away from them, back into the rain—Yasha is too tall for the umbrella to protect him much, anyway. The bards start playing again, presumably after having cast a spell to shield their instruments, and he follows the beat, grinning when he hears Yasha’s soft chuckle as he raises his hands above his head, his metal bracelets making a gentle ringing sound.
He turns to Caleb and—oh. Oh no. Caleb is standing awkwardly next to Yasha and Beau, staring at the floor, arms wrapped around himself. The rain is pouring now, and he looks miserable, his hair flat against his face.
Molly curses. He walks up to Caleb and—softly, to not startle him—tries to get his attention.
“Caleb? Caleb, dear, are you with me?”
Caleb blinks a few times and looks at him. “Mollymauk.” He looks around, seeming to remember where he is. “I am sorry, I, ah, did not mean to space out like that. It is just...” He frowns.
Molly smiles encouragingly, giving him the time he needs to finish.
“I do not mind a bit of rain, but...” Caleb points to himself as an explanation, and it’s... Eloquent. His clothes are soaked, and he is starting to shiver now that the heat is gone.
“Want to take a break, find somewhere to dry off?” Mollymauk says.
Caleb nods, eyes darting away. “Ja, I think I would like that.”
Molly turns back to Yasha and Beau, who are both oblivious to their conversation and seem very busy staring at each other without saying anything. He rolls his eyes.
“Yasha, love?” he says, “Caleb and I are going to look for somewhere dry. We’ll catch up with you later, but if we can’t find you we’ll meet up at the inn tonight. That work for you?”
Yasha frowns—Molly knows from experience she’s just contemplating his offer—and nods, serious as ever. “That works.”
Molly grins. “All right! You two have fun together.” He winks at Beau, who glares daggers at him from underneath Yasha’s arm.
His plan was to take Caleb to a coffee shop—or, ideally, to see Pumat so they could be dried instantly—but as they walk through the streets of the Pentamarket, Molly realizes his error. The festival has drawn everyone out to the streets, and all the shops are closed, shopkeepers selling their goods on the street instead, or just enjoying the parade.
The rain isn’t dying down, and Caleb, who is walking a few paces ahead of him, is getting more miserable by the minute. Molly feels a bit of panic rise inside his chest and thinks about his options. Head back to the pillow trove (disappointing, and won’t make Caleb feel better at all), find a shop or restaurant to crash (unlikely), stay in the rain (absolutely not)…
He’s deep in thought when he feels a washtub’s worth of water pour down on him at once, and he’s drenched now, about as wet as if he’s jumped in a river with his clothes on.
“I’m so, so sorry!” he hears. He looks up and sees a halfling woman, standing on her balcony, looking deeply embarrassed. “I just wanted to get the water off this,” she points at the awning above the balcony. “I didn’t see you.”
Molly blinks, then howls with laughter. He sees Caleb whirl around in his direction, looking concerned, and then he sees him look up, realize what happened, and smile for what feels like the first time in an eternity.
There’s my wizard, Molly thinks, and he immediately represses that thought, running towards Caleb with a grin, ignoring the way his heart seems to skip a beat when he grabs his hand and tugs him along.
They run together, hand in hand, giggling like teenagers—okay, maybe Molly is the one giggling, but Caleb is definitely laughing and it’s the most beautiful sound Molly’s ever heard. He spots a covered alleyway and pulls Caleb into it. Caleb leans against the wall, breathing heavily—still laughing, thank the Moonweaver—and Molly decides maybe the day isn’t ruined just yet.
Now that they’re out of the rain, though, Molly’s clothes feel just awful, wet and cold and heavy against him. He tries to wring out some of the water but—gods there’s so much.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a spell for this, would you?” he asks Caleb, taking his coat off and shaking it.
Caleb shakes his head.
It only takes a few minutes for the rain to die down, and Molly sighs with relief.
“We should get back to the Inn.” Caleb says.
Molly frowns a little. He doesn’t feel like he’s ready to head back just yet, but he also doesn’t want to leave Caleb alone—and he rationalizes that by telling himself he’s just worried about him.
“We could do that,” Molly says, “or we could go back to the parade, poke fun at merchants, maybe buy a candied apple...”
Caleb frowns. “Mollymauk, I, we are very wet right now. I like spending time with you, but I think today was just not the right time.”
Molly tries not to latch on too hard to the ‘I like spending time with you’ part. “How about,” he thinks for a second. “See, I’m worried if we head back now we’ll remember this as a rather shitty day, and I must admit I was rather looking forward to today.”
Caleb tilts his head to the side—very cute, Molly thinks—and thinks about it. “What would you suggest we do instead?” he asks.
Molly chews at his lower lip, trying to phrase this in a way that doesn’t put any pressure on Caleb to do something he doesn’t want. “How about this,” he says. “We go back out there, try to warm up and have a good time, and if after ten minutes you still feel like shite, we head back, no hard feelings.” He smiles in a way he wants to be reassuring, and adds: “You can say no, of course, and we can go back to the inn right now. Absolutely no pressure.”
He gives Caleb a minute to think about it, swishing his tail from side to side to the rhythm of the festival music he can just barely hear from a few streets away.
Then Caleb nods. “Ja, that, seems like a good idea.” He smiles at Molly, and Molly almost starts laughing again because of how ridiculously beautiful Caleb Widogast is when he smiles.
Mollymauk extends a hand towards Caleb. “Can I…?” he asks, and grins when Caleb takes his hand and leads him back out into the crowd.
They stay out late, until the sun sets and the festival ends, and they’re still holding hands when they get back to the inn, which makes Yasha smile, and Nott frown, but they’re too tired and damp and happy to care and Mollymauk thinks that maybe, just maybe, things can be good sometimes.