Cold rain that drizzled relentlessly. That was what had stirred her – the flickering drops that dribbled through the wooden cracks of the construct she was slumped beneath.
She opened her eyes, slowly but surely. A contrasting black against the soft grey of her eyes dilated for a moment, and things seemed blurred, sparing the female the brief and nearly alarming visage of pedestrians scurrying for cover in the darkening town atmosphere of that town. She could hardly even recognize what was in front of her in the bleary aftermath of her hopefully short-lived rest.
When had she fallen asleep?
Along the raindrop-flowing streets, a patch of fur skimmed rather lazily along the ground, headless and ragged.
No, not headless. As it turned in her direction, Mikasa was only relieved at the realization that the creature simply had its nose pressed towards the ground, peering through the hair in its face at the drenched grounds for something. She stared motionlessly, captivated as the mop of a dog wiggled around without so much as a puff at the weather.
She felt stiff, and very tired. The invading prickles of moisture that contacted her face were not aiding her condition. Parts of her hair clung to her face, and she could place serious debate into whether or not she had a nose, for she certainly had no sense of feeling for it.
When she became better aware of her surroundings, she shifted slightly, and turned her head, only to find a newer fur-like texture tickling her face; a familiar scent to push forth its invasive presence. With a smile quirking her lips at the familiarity, Mikasa found herself nuzzling into it slightly with the dreary tiredness lingering. A headache was making itself known in the back of her attentions.
She conjured warmth from the source of the material, soft and homely. Her defenses against the weather she so enjoyed had been fortified, and soon disturbed as a hand made itself known, shifting around near her hip. Alarmed by this, Mikasa urged herself to sit up more, bringing her own hand up to press a palm to one of her eyes, looking over at the person objectified as her comfort. So suddenly, things came flowing back to her.
They were waiting for the bus.
"Oh." A dim tone of slightened disappointment from the person. Annie had discreetly retracted her hand back to her own side, blinking as if she had been on the brink of sleep as well. There was no finishing statement defending the slackness of the physical barrier that was a generality between them. The bench was compact. The fact they were touching one another was logic. But an arm around her?
"It's cold," the blonde finally said, moving her hands up to her mouth to cup and breathe into them. Her breath pooled out past them in a dispersing mist.
It made better sense. It must have been uncomfortable for Mikasa to be leaning against the other, crushing her arm into her side. All other assumptions slipped away from her thoughts like the drops that leaked down upon them.
"How long have I been asleep?"
Annie moved a bit, digging around in the pockets of her fur-trimmed jacket for her phone, just to peek at the time.
A pause. "Half an hour. We could have caught the subway and been there by now."
Mikasa sighed inwardly, and sat further upright, finally allowing the other her space. Sourly, the other female responded by shifting much more abruptly, as if making a point to her discomfort. It was ignored. "The buses must be out." A subway would be cheaper than a cab at the distance they needed to go, she reasoned. With no mention of a cab from Annie, she must have come to a similar conclusion.
They sat in silence for a few moments, finally taking the opportunity to relish the serene downpour, before Mikasa proposed that they walk across the street to the stairs descending into the trams for the subway. Without any formal indication as to whether or not she agreed, Annie had pulled her hood up, and began stalking across the barren road with the dark-haired female shortly pursuing.
In the brief depths of the stairs, they were underground, and Annie was pecking on her cell phone for digital copies of short-term purchased tickets that were not likely to have expired yet in her recent trip – a product of wanderlust-driven impulse for university students on break.
Mikasa observed the glowing schedule propped up in the midst of the platform, such of which catered to the idea of dropping them at their destination soon. The next one to arrive was, fortunately, not too far off.
Against her own intent of making it to their destination with fashionable tardiness, there was a sudden chill that rippled its way down her back. She stood, rigid and paralyzed with the sensation that pricked down along her skin; unwarranted. Her breath constricted as she turned to the side, brows rising and lips hung slightly mute.
There was no one else around them.