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It was positively pouring. The rain drummed so hard on the roof it was a miracle it didn't cave in and even stepping outside to get the mail would result in getting soaked to the bone. To Viola, it was the perfect weather to play soccer in.
Sneaking out of the house wasn't hard. Viola doubted her mom even cared where she went anymore now that she had a picture-perfect fiance (here she paused a second to revel in just how picture perfect he was), but the thrill of scaling the sode of the house never lost its charm. Once safely on the ground, Viola shivered a bit. It was a bit colder than she had thought, but a chill wouldn't kill her. And she ran, she'd warm up. She took off at a light jog, ball in hand.
By the time she reached Duke's house, she was soaked through. Her hoodie was drenched and clung uncomfortably to her body, and she was glad the material was thick enough to not be completely see-through. The doorbell rang with the familiar chime, and she waited uncomfortably for several minutes before Duke's mother opened the door.
"Hi," Viola said shyly. She had met Mrs. Orsino before, but for some reason talking to adults had never been her forte. "I was wondering if I could talk to Duke?"
Mrs. Orsino looked puzzled. "He went out to play some soccer. I assumed he was with you." Viola looked down at the ball in her hand.
"That's ok. He's probably by himself or with the team or something." They exchanged goodbyes, and Viola was left dripping water onto the Orsino's front step. It's ok. He probably wanted to drill something specific. But why wouldn't he want to do that with her? Was she being annoying by constantly coming to see him? But he wasn't just her boyfriend, he was her best friend. Who else would she even want to play soccer with?
Viola turned and half-heartedly kicked at the puddle she had left. Her jog to the field was much more appropriate for the weather than her original pace, and she cursed herself for not just going straight amd saving herself the heartache. The rain no longer a powerful detox and exactly what the world needed every now and then to clear their busy minds but instead forlorn and very, very chilly.
The field was a lake. There was one or two gigantic puddles that spanned at least half the field, and what was not covered in water was incredibly muddy. The immense sky was dark amd the bare trees stretched up like claws. The few blossoms that had bloomed in anticipation of spring so recently now yearned for respite, pathetically drooping under the weight of so much water. The white goals were slick with water, and the net hung low to the ground because of the thorough saturation from the relentless storm. Viola hugged her sopping wet hoodie closer to her numb skin and tossed her ball a few feet in front of her. It landed with a splat. This was going to be fun.
Viola estimated she had been playing for around fifteen minutes when someone shouted at her from the parking lot. She was so surprised she whipped around and, of course, slipped and fell on her butt. Mud seeped into her already drenched clothes, making them even heavier. Viola wanted to scream. This was supposed to be fun and relaxing, her break from the ridiculous drama her family was so prone too. Discouraged, she laid all the way back and stared at the sky to contemplate her day. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the figure from the parking lot until he was right in front of her.
"Hey soccer star," Duke smirked. He held his own ball, and despite being almost as drenched as she was, he looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. His hair was plastered to his face, and he had a manic grin as he leaned over to help her up. "Sorry for making you fall." He offered her his hand, and she grabbed on desperately. He was here. His hand was warm in hers, and though their skin was slick with rain, his grip was strong as he pulled her to her feet. She was still a bit shocked amd dazed from her fall, but Duke patiently waited for her to break their grip or make a move.
Finally, finally, she cleared her throat. "Hey," she said, because what else could she say to describe how she was feeling. She pulled her hand from his, and shook herself like a dog. Droplets scattered everywhere and mixed with the downpour. To her surprise, Duke laughed.
"What are you waiting for?" he taunted, dropping his ball to the ground. "Let's play some of the beautiful game."
After they were breathless from exhileration and exhaustion, they collapsed on the side of the field. They didn't even mind the mud, because how much muddier could they get? Duke explained that he went to her house but Sebastian had told him she wasn't home. He figured she'd come here, and he'd been right. Viola couldn't stay mad at him or herself when he gave her that puppy-dog grin, so any grudge she still held was promptly forgot.
They played long after it stopped raining and only stopped when they realized that even through the clouds, it was obvious it was long past dinner. Viola knew her mom had some dinner to plan the next debutante gathering, so she wasn't worried about getting home, but Duke needed to be back home. However, he knew his mother wouldn't mind Viola joining them and in fact probably expected it, since she spent almost as much time at his house as at her own. This was obviously conveyed, and they ran home, only to be caught in a sudden last downpour as the sky emptied the little rain that hadn't been already dumped on their heads.
Duke and Viola were welcomed in enthusiastically by his mother, but promptly banished to his room to get dry clothes while Mrs. Orsino tried to clean the worst of the mud before it dried on her floor.
"Oops," Viola giggled as they bounded up the stairs as quickly as they could to avoid any more mess. Duke was shaking with laughter as they slammed the door behind them.
"You can borrow some of my clothes if you want," Duke offered as he peeled off his shirt.
"Really?" Viola breathed dramatically. "I was planning on dining in the nude." Duke coughed as he turned to face away from her, cheeks blazing. Oops. She hadn't meant to give him that image. He tossed her a dry shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and she retreated to his bathroom to spare both of them any further awkwardness.
They hung their wet things around Duke's bathroom after rinsing the worst of the mud out of them. Viola's cheeks were aflame as she hung up her bra and underwear on the shower handle, and she noticed Duke's eyes go very briefly to her chest before resolutely staring down at the cuffs she had put in his sweatpants. His clothes were huge on her. The shirt he had given her hung almost to her knees, but she couldn't help feeling more comfortable in it then she did in her own things. It smelled like him, and it was blessedly free of the frills her mother so loved to purchase whenever Viola was forced to go shopping with her.
"Sooo..." Duke said as he plopped down on the bed beside her. They had both showered, and though she felt bad for going first, she was glad she'd gotten the hot water. She only felt a little guilty for leaving him the cold, but of course he was too chivalrous to not insist she go first. She had taken her usual spot on the right side of the bed while she waited for him, and the pillow was now damp. Duke was still sitting on the edge of the bed. She stole his pillow before he could lay down. He huffed in annoyance, and raked a hand through his equally damp hair.
"Before you get BOTH my pillows wet, we probably should go help set the table."