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"What are you doing?"
She doesn't turn around; she doesn't have to. She knows his voice, nearly as familiar as the rain running down her face. "I like the rain," she replies quietly. "Love it."
"Hope you don't love it more than me."
She whirls around, a horrified expression on her face. "Of course I--" He is grinning. "Gray, you ass." She hits him lightly on the arm. "I'm a pluviophile, not anything else."
"So you don't love me then." He laughs. "I guess you don't want hot chocolate then, Juvia?"
She smiles. "I can always watch the rain from inside. After all, it's more beautiful from your arms."
"You're such a sap," he says as he puts an arm around her waist as they head inside.
But they wouldn't have it any other way.