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A drop of water fell from the sky. It landed on Gilbert's face, looking like a tear. It couldn't have been more ironic, for Gilbert was feeling happier than he'd been for a while.

Elizaveta was sitting next to him, holding his hand, and he was happy, and the big tangle of emotion wrapped up in him loosened just a bit. Just enough for his true feelings to shine out, and he knew, without a doubt, that he wanted more.

He looked up, seeking the water's source, just in time to get another drop in the eye. He made a face and blinked it out, and Elizaveta laughed at his expression. Then it was the albino's turn to laugh as a raindrop nipped the end of her nose.

"Do you think we can shelter under the flower tunnel?" asked Elizaveta, peering up at the cloudy sky.

"I think we'll be fine," he reassured her, but just to be safe, they both moved farther under the tunnel. Violet blossoms nestled in their hair, and then they felt they'd reached a safe distance inside they smiled at each other and picked the flowers out. The albino closed his eyes at the feeling of her slim fingers sliding through his hair.

It started to rain in earnest then. Ropes of water knocked the air full of blossoms, and the wind rattled the knotted lattice of branches above them. In no time, water was leaking through their makeshift shelter and gusting at them from either side.

"Run for it?" asked the albino, indicating the palace doors. It'd only been raining for a few minutes, but already the sky was black with clouds. It looked like nighttime, but for the hastily lit lanterns in their glass prisons. It was a very bad time to be out.

Elizaveta bent and took her shoes off, splashing her thin feet in the cold puddles on the cobbles before hiking her damp skirt up around her waist, completely unaware of how Gilbert was admiring her tanned legs and the paler stripe at the top of her thigh where the light hardly ever hit. When she turned to offer an affirmative, he met her eyes and smiled. "Race you."

A devilish expression stole over her face. "You're on." Before Gilbert could even offer a retort, she was off like a shot into the windy darkness.

"I didn't say go yet!" he shouted, barreling after her at full speed.

Once he was out of the tunnel, the wind hit him from the side. It was a formidable force, and the rain carried with it pelted him like rocks. Squinting his eyes against the driving rain, he made for the line of lamps illuminating the gardens. A flash of skirts caught his eye, and he put his head down and sprinted for her. You'll not win again. He smiled wide, almost feral, against the rain.

With a lot of effort, he managed to increase his speed, boots slipping and sliding over the slick cobbles until he finally pulled steady next to her, legs tiring.

Elizaveta looked at him out of the corner of her eye. The wind was raking through her hair, sending it it flapping like a semaphore flag through the air behind her. Her expression was one of surprise before she pumped her legs for an extra burst of speed.

Out of the semi-darkness came a short metal fence. Elizaveta hurdled it with ease, but Gilbert, clumsy in his soggy clothes, jumped a moment too late, got his feet caught on the ridges, and took a header into a flowering bush. Getting to his hands and knees, he spat out vibrant red petals, and saw Elizaveta a few paces away, her hair dancing. "Ó, a francba, are you all right?" She knelt next to him and pressed her hands to his forehead.

If you keep touching me, I'll be more than fine. He didn't say that, though. Instead he sprang to his feet and charged forwards, to the safety of the door no less than twenty feet away. "You always fall for that!" he crowed, and angled himself towards victory.

Behind him, Elizaveta started to look annoyed, shook her head, smiled, and then proceeded to pass him in the last five feet, much to his indignant surprise. "Hey!"

In the safety of the dry hall inside, she proceeded to gloat in her victory, heedless of the water dripping off every surface and puddling on the floor. "I won! I won!" she exulted while the albino squeezed water out of his clothing. "You always win."

Elizaveta spun towards him, her features arrayed in a smirk. "Yes, but that doesn't stop me from gloating." She flourished her hand. "How does defeat taste? You always get to taste that bitter morsel, and-"

"Well, you get to be rewarded!" Gathering his courage and that flaming ball of longing, he turned and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. That effectively shut her up.

Fearing she was angry, he shrank back a little bit, but she slanted her green gaze to him, a smile kissing the corner of her lips. "So soon, eh?"

He had no idea how to interpret that. Perhaps sensing his apprehension, she grabbed his hand. "Come on. You're going to treat me to dinner."

"I'm-I am? But we're both soaking wet! A-"

Elizaveta looked down at herself, and the albino suddenly noticed how the soaking wet material clung to her shapely form. "It's only a little water." She sighed. "But even water is not allowed in the upper circles, eh?" She shook out her hair, fingers unconsciously checking for her flower pin, which was dangling for dear life under her ear. "I'll meet you back here in ten minutes, okay?"

"Don't be late!" he called, already ascending the stairs, unable to suppress the growing grin.

Now is the time to do it. He fingered the vial in his sleeve, which miraculously hadn't broken during his fall earlier.

I love you so much, Elizaveta. I must have you.

A butterfly flapped behind his head, and this time, he let it be.