Shivering and half-laughing with the dismal nature of the situation, Rue ran to the shelter of an awning to get out of the reach of the rain. Her clothes were thoroughly splattered with rainwater, and her hair was flatter than usual under the dampness. Wringing the sleeve of her dress, she didn't notice the person standing just out of reach of the downcast daylight.
"Rue?"
She froze and turned her chin to look at the speaker, her carefree expression replaced by a stiff, sour, arrogant look. "Why, look at what the cat dragged in out of the rain... Fakir."
He stepped out of the shadows, his own hair damp. He glared at her. "I could say the same about you."
"Touche," she laughed bitterly. "This cold, damp weather - it's a match for our hearts, isn't it?"
"Someone like you has no knowledge of a soul," he snapped under his breath.
"Oh, don't be like that. We're stuck together as long as this rain lasts - we might as well be civil for now."
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "For as long as your hair is down, and I don't carry a sword... That sounds about right. Of course, that's only because to outright attack each other as our everyday selves would cause trouble."
"Don't act like it's all that clear cut," she smirked at him from beneath her dripping bangs. "I'm certain there's more to it than that."
He paused, lost for words. Then he laughed humorlessly and turned to look out at the rain once more. "Who wants to be right as rain all the time, anyways?"
"Mm?"
"At least, you like mind games, so - fine. I can take a little banter, though if this rain doesn't end soon, I might go insane."
"Mind games? No. Just undermining those who get in my way."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. But I think it's the same way with you."
He chanced a look at her again. She was still looking at him with those piercing burgundy eyes... No, they were more of a deep maroon... Or a dark red? "How is that?"
"We both like to fight with verbal venom. We barb our opponents with words any chance we get. You know I'm right." She tilted her head in victory.
Fakir hadn't considered this before, and he was thoroughly reluctant to admit that it was true - to some extent. "You got one thing wrong."
"What's that?"
"You fight with words to wound your opponents and win possessions. But I fight with words to protect those I care about."
Her eyes widened, and her smile dropped away. "... So it is."
"You're actually agreeing with me?"
"We're stuck under a store awning together in the rain, Fakir. I can risk being honest for now - but I'll pay you back for your snips later, rest assured."
"Mm. As Kraehe?"
"As Kraehe."
"Of course."
They stared at each other, a strange cold sense of longing building up. The sensation made Fakir both queasy and tingly at the same time - a mixture of despise and nervous excitement.
Rue gulped, and her lips parted, then closed again. She seemed to make up her mind, and spoke quickly, in a rush. "J-Just hold me, you fool."
Her words were so sudden, and so awkward, and so unexpected, that Fakir took several halting seconds to absorb them. He reluctantly, distastefully, complied.
But he had to admit that her figure fit well, so naturally, against his...
And together, embracing, they waited out the cold rain.