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The sound of his steps echoes in her ears before the sight of him rain-drenched graces her surprised eyes, and she quickly stands from her seat leaving out reports she has been checking since morning to reach his side.
The crease between her eyebrows deepens and her coffee eyes are filled with worry when she lifts her hand up to his unusual cold cheek, warming him up.
"Where have you been?" Robin asks gently, brushing his blue wet tresses out of his eyes.
Chrom raises his hand to cover hers, leaning into her touch. "I’ve been thinking." He smiles in content.
Robin’s eyes narrow and her lips twist slightly, dubious. "In the rain? But you hate the rain, Chrom."
He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer to his chest, and the smile on his lips widens. "And you love it, Robin." He kisses the crown of her head in a loving gesture and chuckles softly when he hears her mutter against the column of his throat.
("You’re getting me wet.")
Still, Robin doesn’t move away from his arm that encircles her, relishing in the comfort his body against her provides her. She wraps her arms around him, intertwining her hands at his lower back. She closes her eyes and sighs deeply, resting her head in the hollow of his neck. She feels his fingers drum on her hips, his nose nuzzling into her mass of snowy hair. Despite his dampness, it's in his arms where she feels the most comfortable.
"What were you thinking about?" Robin breaks the silence, breathing in his cologne and the scent of rain clinging onto his skin.
There's no hesitation in his answer. "You," he says plainly and Robin can’t help to snort at him. "What?" Chrom asks when he hears the unfeminine sound coming from his wife.
She smiles a little. "That was cliché," she replies softly before frowning, thinking deeply. "And cheesy," she adds after a moment, "bad cheesy."
He chuckles against the crown of her head. "Well," she can hear his smile in his voice. "It seems like you don’t really inspire me."
Then Robin laughs openly at his shabby comment, tiptoes to kiss him at the corner of his lips before freeing herself from his cold embrace. "Nah," she says, her voice light and merry, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the hallways. "You’ve always sucked at it."
He doesn't take offense and follows her obediently. "Where are you taking me?"
She looks over her shoulder and gives him a secretive grin, but doesn’t answer him. She looks at him with sparkling eyes, a gleam he finds quite mischievous and terribly magnetizing and while he is all but certain that his wife of his is scheming against him, Chrom can’t let go of her hand, even if it means hell.
And in this case, means rain.
"Holy—!" Robin giggles when the thousands droplets of rain stun him and make him grit his teeth in shock, body tense. "Robin!" Chrom brawls, squeezing her hand hard. "What the—!?"
Robin cuts him off abruptly by yanking his head down to claim his lips, her hand curling in his wet tresses. He feels the curve of her smile against his lips and it is enough to let his indignation aside and so Chrom kisses her back with equal eager, intertwining his fingers with hers and pulling her body flat against him.
When she finally releases him, a puff of air between their lips and now both soaked to the bones, the grin in her face that curves her mouth, bright and enamored, is enough to make him forget the rain he so hates and which she so adores.
"Your hair is curling," she says softly, the statement falling into the echoes of the rain pitter-pattering to the ground. "It’s cute."
Chrom leans his damp forehead against hers and smiles back.
"You’re awful, wife."
She laughs again.
He hates the rain, but she makes him like it.