First fic for a Pride Month prompt challenge from tumblr. Prompt: storm.
The weather in Taiwan has been so beautiful and sunny that neither Mila nor Sara bothered to check the weather forecast this morning. They both donned light tops and shorts to explore beyond the beach this morning, and those served them incredibly well all day until now. The incoming low pressure brought with it torrential rain and a sudden desertion on the streets and they find themselves picking their way back to the hotel alone.
At least the air is still warm – not dry like Sara is used to, but still a little more merciful on their drenched skin and clothes. They gave up running several minutes ago: they'll be soaked when (if?) they get back to the hotel either way, and now they're walking slow along a road empty of cars or people. Sara's not even sure if this is the right way back – she's never stayed at the hotel before and in the rain everything looks the same.
"What's so funny?" asks Mila, and Sara bites her lip only briefly – apparently that light chuckle wasn't only in her head.
"Your shoes," she concedes, and Mila quirks a brow but then she hears the alternating squeak and wet slap of her flip flops on the concrete and snorts.
"Yeah I might have to throw these out after this," she giggles. "They were already kind of–"
The rest of her sentence is swallowed by the sudden rumble of thunder and flash of lightning in the sky above them. Their knees seem to tremble with the force of the sound, and afterwards they gape at each other, open-mouthed. Suddenly everything feels startlingly real and worryingly dangerous.
"There was a big car park down that road we just passed," says Sara. "Do you want to shelter there? I can try and get enough signal on my phone to get a map up."
Mila nods, a smile spreading on her face, and they turn back, scurrying through the rain to try and get to the car park before the next clap can hit. They just about make it – the thunder catches their heels disappearing into the concrete structure – and once they're inside Mila lets out a breathless laugh, shaking her dripping hair like a dog. Sara wrings out the hem of her t-shirt (not that it means much in the onslaught they'll likely have to go back to shortly) and pulls out her phone. Dampness smears across the screen and she does her best to wipe it with the inside of her top.
"We can't be too far," says Mila and Sara makes a noise of agreement.
As Sara tries to get her phone dry enough to use it, she watches Mila out of her corner of her eye. She always watches Mila, eyes drawn to her like iron filings to a magnet: the gentle angle of her jawbone, her slim wrists and the azure fire in her eyes. Sara can feel those eyes on her now, and a flash of lightning throws the dimness of their surroundings into relief for a brief moment. It's too brief to read Mila's expression properly, and Sara feels a fleeting sense of disappointment, but then Mila comes much closer and puts an arm around her shoulders.
"You're shivering," says Mila, drawing Sara to her in a hug. The cold fabric of her top presses into Sara's arm, but Mila's body behind it is warm and soft and Sara can feel a light flush to her face. They stay in silence for a time, listening to the rain and continuous groan of thunder. Sara tries ostensibly to dry her phone but Mila's warmth is distracting and when she steals a glance she sees steady aquamarine eyes gazing back at her. She thinks dimly that she could count the little tea-coloured freckles splashed across Mila's nose and cheekbones (evidence of the good weather they've enjoyed so far) before the distance between them closes in a short, sweet kiss.
When the rain has died down a little – Sara's sense of time is fuzzy on that to say the least – they leave the car park to walk the last ten minutes back to the hotel. Sara knows Mickey will be frantic when they return, and that he'll have question after question, but with Mila's hand in hers everything seems simple and sweet.
