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"Clorinde! My, fancy seeing you here!"
Fontaine is a city filled with busy streets and even busier people. Yet there is one person she simply can't escape, no matter how hard she tries. Every turn, every corner, every alleyway shrouded in darkness — there she is with her annoying parasol. Her troublesome, long blonde locks that cascade past her shoulders like a waterfall. Her irritating, bright blue eyes that shimmer without a care in the world. Her agitating voice that never failed to fill the room and draw attention or make Clorinde's chest seethe. Her infuriating, teasing lips that always curve up into a radiant smile that rests on her face. She's the cockroach that just won't die, no matter how many times someone stomps on her.
"Navia," she says bluntly, arms crossing together.
"Aw, don't be like that, dear." Clorinde watches as the other woman nonchalantly takes a few steps closer. Her parasol slings over her shoulder like a soldier holding a musket, hand resting on the elegant handle. "Now what's a beautiful rose like you doing here all alone?"
Clorinde uncrosses her arms with a blank expression. Her hand silently creeps down her waist until it finds its target: her holster. She draws her pistol in a blink of an eye — faster than what Navia could comprehend. Cocking her head to the side, Clorinde raises an unamused eyebrow as she presses the muzzle against Navia's temple. She watches as nearby bystanders clutch at their bags and purses, gasping and whispering to one another.
'Oh dear, not again.'
'Focalors, have mercy on us.'
"Oh my, this rose has more thorns than usual!" Navia laughs gently, her hands lifting up defensively. "No need for any of that today. I'm just passing by."
"You say that every time, Navia."
Navia feigns surprise as if it wasn't the most obvious thing in Teyvat. Her free hand covers her lips, eyes widening to simulate an even greater shock. "Do I really?"
Even with her expression guarded, Clorinde still sees the unwavering, teasing glint behind her gentle blue eyes.
"Yes," she replies simply, her own amethyst eyes staring back.
"You know Clorinde, if you keep looking at me like that, it'll be even harder for me to leave you alone," she smiles innocently.
"Goodbye, Navia."
Clorinde swiftly walks past the woman as her cape flows gracefully behind. She hears Navia's voice yell from afar a goodbye laced with what she assumes is mock disappointment. She can only imagine Navia waving at her from behind with her obnoxious parasol. Her brows knit together as she lets out a heavy sigh. She simply didn't understand the other woman. Several weeks ago, even the mere sight of the other's familiar hat would bring them at each other's throats — let alone being in the same proximity having a conversation. An ulterior motive, she concludes.
She later finds out she isn't wrong.
The next time Clorinde encounters Navia is in the midnight rain.
It's late — later than any time a person would usually be up. The rain pours down in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. The city streets, usually bustling with activity, were now adorned with shimmering puddles and the melodic sound of droplets tapping against windows and pavement. The air was infused with the gentle smell of rainwater which fills the area, a fragrance Clorinde found quite pleasing. Amidst the lulling sound, a figure emerges, striding gracefully through the rain-soaked roads.
Clorinde enjoys her walks at night. She finds it peaceful — relaxing, even. The once swarmed streets were now replaced with a gentle quietness, transforming the area into an entirely different city. However, due to the rain, Clorinde finds herself taking shelter underneath a building. In hopes that the rain lets up soon, Clorinde watches the water droplets send ripples throughout the several puddles that lay in the middle of the road in order to pass the time.
That is, until she unfortunately sees Navia in the distance.
"Clorinde? What are you doing out here so late?" The president of Spina di Rosula, almost annoyingly, gracefully strides over with her signature parasol in hand to protect her from the rain.
"I am simply waiting for the rain to pass."
Navia purses her lips before gesturing to her parasol. "Come on, I'll walk you back."
Clorinde raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "You don't have to do that."
"With how this rain is pouring, it isn't going to let up any time soon," Navia laughs gently. "You'll be stuck here for hours."
"I am quite fine with that."
She's not, but she isn't going to let Navia know that. She refuses to owe any favors to the woman.
Navia sighs. "Listen, I know we aren't the best of friends, but I'm sure you don't walk to be stuck out here for any longer than you should be."
Clorinde's eyes dart past Navia's shoulder, watching the rain pour behind her. The streetlight from above illuminates the falling rain and her figure perfectly — almost as if she was an ethereal being sent from Celestia above. A strange feeling in Clorinde's chest begins to rise, but she dismisses it quickly. She doesn't have time to ponder over it; the sooner she can get this over with, the better. Her lips press together to form a thin line before she reluctantly gives in. She doesn't have much of a choice. "...Fine. Just this once."
Clorinde bends down to enter her newly found shelter of Navia's parasol as the blonde eagerly hums.
"Hey there, love," she says with a smile.
Clorinde responds with a curt nod, already beginning to lead the way. "It isn't far from here."
"My, taking me to your place already?" Navia teases. "At least buy me dinner first!"
Clorinde turns her head to the side and stares blankly at the girl.
"I'm kidding. Come on, it's late. I'm guessing you want to go to bed."
Clorinde sighs with the shake of her head and continues to walk. A brief moment of silence passes before she speaks up.
"Thank you, Navia."
She glances down at Navia, and she sees a gentle smile form on her lips. Her head tilts up to look at the dark haired woman, and despite the fact that no further words were exchanged, a mutual understanding passes between the two. They continue to walk in a comfortable silence, but Clorinde can't help but notice the occasional brush on her shoulder with Navia's. She glances down once more, but Navia's gaze remains forward.
After several minutes, the two stop walking.
"This is it," Clorinde confirms with a nod, beginning to leave the parasol.
"Hold on."
Navia grabs her wrist with her free hand, preventing the dark haired woman from leaving.
"What are you-"
Navia inclines herself towards the Electro user's face, lifting onto the balls of her feet. Clorinde feels Navia's gentle touch brush several strands of wet hair out of her face, and in one swift motion, finds her hand resting on her cheek.
"You're prettier when I can see both of your eyes."
Navia falls back on the flats of her feet with a teasing smile, already beginning to turn around before the dark haired woman could speak. She does so, but not before giving a glance over her shoulder, her never wavering, radiant smile on her face.
"Goodnight, love! Rest well!" she waves with a light laugh.
Clorinde watches her figure disappear into the distance with graceful steps, almost as if she was dancing to the symphony of the rain. Clorinde curses underneath her breath, swallowing. That woman is going to be the death of her. She shuts her eyes, and even still she can feel the light, feathery touch of Navia's fingers on her cheek. Just recalling the sensation of her soft, delicate skin raises bumps all over.
It isn't until she closes the door shut behind her does she feel a strange warmth begin to creep its way onto her cheeks.
There's a specific time they meet that's on Clorinde's own accord.
It's a rather sudden meeting, as much as she hates to admit. A moment of weakness.
"Why isn't this a lovely surprise!" Navia laughs as she's pulled away by her wrist.
Clorinde remains silent, but continues to drag Navia away like a parent to a misbehaving child. She drags them into a nearby, dimly lit alleyway before pining the namesake of the Navia Line against the stone wall. She presses a light kiss against her temple, her hands wandering to Navia's waist. She exhales gently, her breath tickling the loose strands of Navia's hair before she presses their foreheads together.
"Needy today, aren't we?" Navia hums, tracing her fingers along Clorinde's shoulder blade. She feels as the muscles contract and then later relax underneath her touch. "You said you wanted to keep things professional, did you not?"
Clorinde continues to remain silent, peppering kisses all along Navia's jaw — marking each spot of skin like the amount of stars in the sky.
"You were lucky I was alone you know," Clorinde meets Navia's gaze, watching as her blue eyes radiate its same teasing glint. "People still remember the time you drew your pistol on me. Right..."
Navia gently grabs the Clorinde's hand, bringing it to the temple of her forehead.
"...Here." Navia tilts her head upward with a smirk. "Everyone's waiting for the next time it happens."
"You know it won't," Clorinde mutters.
"You're right, but everyone else doesn't," Navia presses a kiss on the tip of Clorinde's nose. "You best hurry it up before someone comes looking for us and notices we're both mysteriously gone at the same time and connects the dots. Unless... you want it to happen?"
"I hate you," she whispers huskily, leaning closer to Navia, their lips mere inches away from each other. "You're insatiable."
She watches as Navia's eyes glance down for a brief moment before her lips quirk up into a grin.
"I hate you too."
Without another word, Navia closes the remaining distance between them, her lips capturing Clorinde's in a tender, achingly sweet kiss. Clorinde's hand moves of its own accord, her fingers reaching up to grab a handful of the blonde's hair. The touch was rough and brash, almost like a release of Clorinde's pent up emotion — a clear contrast to Navia's gentle touch. Their kiss deepens, walls that had taken weeks to build crashing down within seconds due to a rush of emotion — a moment of weakness. As they pull away, their foreheads rest against each other, breaths mingling. Clorinde's chest rises and falls with each ragged breath like a gentle tide on the beach, her usual composed demeanor completely crumbled.
"You're an infuriating woman, Navia," she whispers.
"And you're just the most intoxicating," Navia's arms rest around Clorinde's neck with a smirk. "Same time tomorrow?"
Clorinde remains unresponsive, effortlessly removing Navia's grip from her arms. With one swift motion, she guides herself out, an exit as sudden as it is graceful. Despite the abrupt exit, Navia swears she sees the faintest of blushes tint the cheeks of the Champion Duelist.