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The sky was dark when he left fencing practice, with clouds that seemed to be consuming every bit of light, even though it was still the afternoon. There, sitting in the entrance of the school, was Marinette. She was sketching something furiously, her hands moving quickly and her tongue poking out a bit in between her lips, her usual pigtails a bit messy from the wind that the rain was causing.
She didn’t seem to be carrying an umbrella with her, and he smiled. She never did carry one, perhaps it was the fact that she lived so close to the school, or just simple forgetfulness, but he was glad either way. That first day when he found her near the steps was something he couldn’t forget. He didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if she had had an umbrella and therefore hadn’t been there, in order for him to apologize; wounds left untreated fester, and he shuddered to think of that first bad impression having more time to settle in her mind.
He often remembered her laugh, when she laughed with him, after the umbrella closed on her. Her blue eyes shined with pure joy, and he felt a sense of peace settle in his chest, a warmth take hold of his throat. Ever since, he associated rain with new beginnings and hope.
He walked over to her. She was muttering something under her breath, but he couldn’t seem to truly make out exactly what she was saying above the pitter patter of the rain against the pavement.
“Hey, Marinette,” he said, startling her. He often seemed to startle her, and he didn’t know if it was because he had awful timing or just that Marinette was often daydreaming or submerged in a project. “What are you still doing here? Class ended quite a while ago.”
“Oh, well. I didn’t have an umbrella with me, and I just got better from a cold so I didn’t want to risk it. I decided to wait for it to clear up, and got distracted with a new idea, you know how it is,” she replied, rubbing her neck for a moment before closing her sketchbook. “It’s clearly later than I realized, if your practice ended already. I mean! I guess? I would imagine practice would be longer than the fifteen minutes I thought had passed,” she laughed nervously, her cheeks coloring pink. That same warmth from the first day settled in his chest, and he felt a smile pulling at his lips as he looked at her.
“I can walk you home, if you’d like,” he offered, signaling his umbrella. She opened her mouth, as if to protest, but apparently something must have showed in his expression because she just nodded and smiled at him. Her eyes crinkled at the corners and he swore he felt his own heart squeeze itself inside his ribcage. It had been happening too often around her lately. Ever since he decided to move on from Ladybug, he seemed to be falling down another impossible rabbit hole, walking down another dangerous path, and he took several steps towards his own downfall each time Marinette graced him with a smile, or when her arm brushing against his seemed to light up a spark in his bloodstream.
She stood up and he went to put the umbrella over both of them. While it was big, it wasn’t big enough to cover them both unless they stepped closer together and, in a momentary leave of his senses, he grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her flush against his side. He tried to ignore the soft material of her cardigan brushing against his arm, or the fact that being as close to her as he was, he could see five tiny freckles in her nose, which was scrunched up adorably.
He barely had the time to process the sound of thunder above their heads before she jumped and ended up being even closer to him. And it was in that moment that, under the umbrella they shared, he kissed her.
On the steps in front of Francois-Dupont, in the nearly deserted street, with rain pouring all around them but never touching them, he kissed her. He felt her surprise give away to slight shudder, and he almost pulled away, but then he felt it, nearly imperceptible over the roaring sound of the storm: a sigh, soft and yearning, before her lips relaxed against his. He moved the hand that wasn’t holding the umbrella and brought it to her chin, slightly tilting up her face, and slowly caressing down towards the back of her neck, where he played with her hair for a moment before setting on her shoulder. Her own hands, tiny as they were, found their place in his waist, slightly bunching up the fabric of his overshirt. The rainfall went quiet in comparison to the roaring in his ears.
When he pulled away her eyes were still closed, but there was a smile on her lips. He felt her breath mingle with his for several seconds, before she opened her eyes. Her eyes were another kind of storm entirely, before she pulled him down and kissed him again.
The umbrella clattered to the floor, forgotten, as the rain swept away every bit of hesitation within them. Kissing under the rain, getting soaked in cold water, wasn’t as romantic as movies made it up to be, but in that moment neither of them cared, for the warmth of their affection was enough to chase the cold bite of the wind away.