Disclaimer: I wrote this fic about a week ago and hadn't gotten around to uploading it until now. Between writing and uploading, a prompt and fic of a similar nature have been written. It is called 'Rainfall' by penile-fracture and I recommend you check it out if you haven't already. Thanks.
The hollow rumble of thunder echoed through the halls of the academy, winding its way around corners and over stairs, filling the headmistress' office. With a sigh of contentment, Cordelia leaned back in her chair, welcoming the sound and the prospect of rain that it promised. The days were already long enough as it was, dealing with the younger girls vying for the title of 'Supreme', her mother, the witch hunters, without adding the blistering summer heat and a broken air conditioner. So rain, even just a few drops, enough to smother the residual heat that sunk in from the roof, would be a pleasure.
Summer rain was Cordelia's favourite, and not just because of the reprieve it brought from the heat. It was the way the skies churned, flecks of light shining through dark, heavy clouds, causing them to glow like a dull lamp. It was the sizzle as the cool water fell upon heated metal and cement, the smell of the earth as it dampened, the arching of the plants as they reached with an unquenchable thirst for the dripping liquid sent from the heavens, and the rainbow that prevailed afterwards. It was beautiful. Magical.
Another loud clasp rang through the building, and within the remnant echoes, she could hear it – the light patter signalling the start of a downfall. The witch took her glasses off, sitting them amongst the papers on her desk and stood, skin peeling from the chair that heat had stuck her too. Mismatched eyes watched as the curtains danced in the soft breeze that rolled in through the open window, as the small specks of liquid began to fall on the wooden floor. It started as a drizzle, but quickly turned into a downpour, and it was then that she sprang into action, moving forward to close the window before the office transformed into a swimming pool.
Though as she moved closer, a semi-familiar melody drifted in on the breeze. Mindful of the rain, the Headmistress leaned out the window, searching for the source. There, in the courtyard below, was Misty Day, singing and dancing in the rain. Cordelia's first instinct was to yell out to the younger witch, to persuade her to come back inside, lest she catch her death of cold. But the longer she watched, the more she found herself unable to speak.
Normally thick, wild curls hung limp around the blonde's face, flicking water in every direction as she twirled and swayed to the rhythm of her own voice. The pale, floral dress that she wore, clung to her body and flopped around her calves, the edges flecked with the same mud that caked her feet. Every single curve shone through the almost sheer material that hugged Misty's skin, putting her on display for anyone and everyone who may happen to see her. Every swing of her hip, bounce of her chest, and sway of her head, though innocent in nature, was far too seductive, too erotic. And it was this thought that dragged the older witch out of the haze she'd found herself spiralling in to.
"Misty!" Cordelia yelled from her place at the window, "What are you doing?"
The witch in question spun towards the building, her eyes instantly finding Cordelia, and smiled the biggest smile Cordelia thought she'd ever seen. "Miss Cordelia! Look, its rainin'!" she exclaimed, lifting her palms to catch some of the drops.
"I can see that," the older witch laughed, wiping at the drops that had managed to land on her own face, "Why are you outside? You'll get sick!"
"Why, I'm dancin'! It's nice and cool, and relaxin'," she smiled and extended a hand towards the window, "Come join me Miss Cordelia."
Cordelia bit her lip. That was tempting, but… "Look, you've got mud all over your dress! Why don't you come inside and we'll get you cleaned up?"
Misty plucked at her dress, looking down and noticing the mud for the first time. She shrugged, "Come on, even the Headmistress needs to have a little fun."
Cordelia hesitated by the window, watching the younger witch as she thought it over. "Besides," Misty called, a smirk gracing her face, "If ya don't come down here, I'mma have to come up there and get ya myself. Mud. Everywhere."
That was all the encouragement Cordelia needed, and within moments, she found herself standing on the front porch, removing her shoes. Misty bounded over, that wide smile still plastered across her face, and giggled. It was surprisingly easy to persuade the Headmistress to bend to her will when she threatened the cleanliness and orderliness of the large house.
With reluctant steps, the older witch met Misty at the bottom of the staircase, her flesh pebbling as the cold water began to fall on her warm skin. Misty took Cordelia's hand in her own and led her further out into the yard, the mud squelching beneath their feet. Cordelia shuddered at both the sound, and the feel as the mud wriggled between her toes. She normally preferred to observe the rain from afar, wrapped in a blanket with tea and a book, not out in it.
"Just like the white winged dove sings a song, sounds like she's singing, ooo, baby, ooo, said ooo," Misty began to sing, swinging their still combined hands in time to the rhythmic breaks and gliding closer to the older witch with every 'ooo' that left her mouth.
Cordelia smiled and began to move too, following Misty's lead and swinging her hips. Slow movements soon picked up as Misty continued to sing, her own movements becoming more erratic. Together the pair twisted around each other, shimmying, limbs swinging, and mud flying. Every now and then a small jump would be thrown into the mix, sending mud everywhere and causing the witches to slip and slide around. They used each other as a stability vice, meeting in the centre every so often to dance as one. Hands on waists, they sway together, their bodies perfectly aligned as they'd move, before swinging back out to continue with whatever crazy moves came to mind.
Short of breath, Cordelia slowed her own movement, watching the energetic swamp witch as she broke away to perform the infamous Stevie Nicks twirl. After several moments of watching Misty repeat the action, the older witch took up the courage to try it herself, and slowly started spinning on the spot.
"Miss Cordelia! Look at you go!" Misty's voice broke through the sound of rain and squishing ground, bringing Cordelia to a halt.
The older witch smiled and moved closer towards Misty, taking her up in her arms, and began to move again, this time slower. "Perhaps we take it easy for a little bit," she spoke in laboured breaths, and Misty nodded her approval.
They moved slowly, watching each other as they did. Being this close was almost hypnotising. Every little detail Cordelia had spotted from the window above was now amplified – the drops of rain that that flattened the blonde's wild hair were now visible not only in her hair, but as they rolled down her face, dripping slowly over the curve of her top lip and falling into the crease where it joined the bottom. She watched as those same lips parted, the rain continuing to over them, highlighting them as Misty breathed.
Cordelia leaned forward, closing what little space remained between them, and captured Misty's in a sweet, chaste kiss. Misty pulled the older witch closer, warm hands clinging to wet material as she deepened the kiss. For what seemed like an eternity, the pair continued in this fashion, kissing and slow dancing beneath the rain, their bodies almost fused together, barely even parting when they stopped to breathe.
As if struck by something, Misty pulled back from Cordelia, her mouth agape as she looked at the witch in her arms.
"What's…" the older witch began, only to be cut off by the sharp intake of air by the other.
Misty closed her eyes, turning her head to the side with as much speed as possible and sneezed. Cordelia's eyes widened and she instantly spoke up.
"What did I tell you?" she gloated, laughing as the other witch wiggled her nose.
"Well, if I'm getting' sick, then ya're too," Misty smirked, tightening her grip and squeezing Cordelia.
"Really now?" she asked, brow arched.
"Yep." Misty nodded.
"And how can you tell that, Misty?" Cordelia laughed.
"Sharin' is carin', Miss Cordelia," and before the older witch had time to react to the statement, Misty placed another slow, passionate kiss upon her lips. Cordelia couldn't argue with those odds.