The sky had been clear just moments ago, the salty breeze warm against their skin as Ata led you through the winding streets of the coastal town. They had come ashore for supplies—just a quick trip, he had promised. But now, as dark clouds rolled in and the first raindrops splattered onto the cobblestone, it was clear that they weren’t making it back to the ship anytime soon.

“Damn,” Ata muttered, pulling you under the wooden overhang of an old dock. The rain had come fast, soaking them both before they even had a chance to run. Water dripped from his white hair, his usual confident smirk still lingering despite the chill. His clothes, much like yours, cling to him, yet, despite it, he seemed unbothered.

You, on the other hand, were shivering. Ata’s sharp eyes caught the tremor in your hands as you tried wringing out the edges of your shirt. Without a word, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. His warmth, so steady and reassuring, seeped into you immediately.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, voice lower than usual.

“Because I’m cold,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Not all of us have pirate blood keeping us warm.”

Ata chuckled, but instead of teasing you further, his smirk softened. He reached up, pushing damp strands of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering at their jaw. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if memorizing every raindrop clinging to your skin.

“You know,” he said, voice quieter now, “rain’s not so bad when you’ve got someone to warm you up.”

Before you could question him, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him. And then—he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It was slow, deliberate—like the sea after a storm, gentle but unyielding. His lips were warm despite the cold, moving against yours with a softness that caught you completely off guard. The rain drummed around them, the world shrinking until it was just the two of them, lost in the moment.

“See?” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “Much better.”