INSPIRED

𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧

Song;
Jealous
by Labrinth

~*~

The first time he noticed was when he saw the rain on her skin.

They ran together. An accidental moment where they found themselves caught in the middle of a storm, unprepared, and so they had no other option but to run.

They stormed their way through the crowds of muggle London, much like how the rain fell upon them. And as they pushed their way around the other frantic runners, he noticed other business women and men prepared with umbrellas, families covered in thick coats, people gathering under shelters at the side of the streets. So he cursed and muttered under his breath, filling with envy while their feet paced along the pavement.

Because they had caught themselves in the middle of this storm without similar ideas and he was angered. More so when the rain poured even heavier onto them, soaking into their clothes and drenching them through skin and bone. The fabrics, sticking to them. Their hair, dripping. It was uncomfortable and ugly.

Finally, they found a small, clear doorway at the side of them and they scrambled their way into it, up onto the single step. Compacted together, with not much space they realised they'd have to stand close. They both sighed heavily and shook themselves off of the rain clinging to their impractical, spring coats. He felt a strain in his jaw as he tensed from the cold wet on his skin and a shiver ran down his spine. He couldn't use his wand to dry himself off, he couldn't cast a warming charm over himself so he had to suffer.

Then his anger rose when he looked down to her, as she stood flushed to himself. He didn't like being so close to her, the way their chests were pressed together as they cramped under the small shelter. He could smell her hair as she stood just below his chin, he could feel the warmth of her against him. He hated it. His anger grew further when he looked at her face and noticed a subtle smile on her lips, the slight curve in the corners of her mouth. She was almost laughing, giggling as if this was funny.

"What are you laughing at?" He scowled and asked, irritated.

"Nothing," he noted her rolling her eyes and biting her bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to suppress her smile. She patted down her clothes with the palms of her hands and wiped away any remaining beads of water. But he'd already seen it and he hated it. The smile, the laugh.

"Why didn't you bring a fucking umbrella, Granger?" he seethed. Trying to ignore her, he ran his fingers through his hair hoping to style it back to the way it was. But it proved useless.

"I didn't know it was going to rain, Malfoy." She bit back and gazed up at him. Her smile disappeared, an angry tone appeared in its place. He was glad. She shouldn't have been happy or laughing at the fact they are drenched from head to toe. She was supposed to be angry, disappointed in herself for not bringing an umbrella, for putting themselves in this position.

It was her idea to meet the potential investor in a muggle cafe. It was her who decided which one to do it at, in the middle of the city, far away from the ministry. And he just had to follow, because like fucking usual, she got her way with everyone bending over backwards to suit whatever the Golden Girl wanted. So this was her fault, he put all the blame on her.

"You should've known." He sucked in a deep breath and attempted to calm the painful chills running through him. He wanted to wrap his arms around himself, he needed to warm himself up but he refrained, knowing he couldn't, not when lifting his arms meant touching her more.

"And how exactly would you expect me to do that?" she glared at him. "I can't predict the weather." Her brows knitted together and it was his turn to smile.