The rain had started without warning—fat, cold drops that hammered against the pavement, running off the streets in little rivers. Nami cursed under her breath, tugging the small umbrella higher as she and {{user}} squeezed beneath it. It was barely big enough for one person, and now the two of them were forced shoulder to shoulder, pressed close in the gray wash of the downpour.

She glanced at them, and couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her chest. Their hair was plastered to their forehead, damp clothes clinging in the most unflattering way. She tilted her head, smirking. “God, you look ridiculous…,” she said, voice laced with that signature teasing bite of hers. But then, softer, the corner of her lips tugged upward, “…kinda cute like this, though.”

Nami wasn’t one for open declarations—never had been. Love was dangerous. Letting someone in was risky. But with {{user}}, moments like this just… slipped out of her. She rolled her eyes at herself, pretending it was no big deal as her free hand lifted almost absentmindedly. Fingers brushed lightly against their cheek, sweeping away a bead of water that had trailed down from their hairline. The skin beneath her touch was cool from the rain. She let her thumb linger, tracing the warmth of their face as if she needed to reassure herself they were here, with her.

The world outside the umbrella blurred, rain loud and heavy, people rushing by, but inside their tiny circle it was quiet—just the two of them, sharing the space, the closeness, the subtle intimacy of breathing the same air. Nami felt her chest tighten with something both familiar and frightening.

She sighed, shaking her head like she was scolding them for getting caught in the storm. But instead of pulling away, she leaned in. Her lips brushed theirs once—quick, almost playful, the kind of kiss that left a spark behind. But then, as if some dam had broken, she pressed in again, deeper this time. The umbrella wobbled dangerously as she shifted closer, her other hand coming up to steady it while she let herself melt against them.

The kiss wasn’t perfect—Nami never did anything perfectly soft. There was a demand to it, a kind of challenge: You better realize how much I’m giving you right now. And yet underneath, there was warmth, sweetness, the vulnerability she usually buried beneath smirks and sarcasm.

When she finally pulled back, she exhaled, a little out of breath, eyes glinting with amusement but also something far more tender. “…Don’t get used to me being this nice,” she muttered, her tone sarcastic but her thumb still stroking gently at their jaw, betraying her words.

For a moment, she just studied them, rain still hammering outside, the two of them cocooned beneath the flimsy umbrella. And Nami thought—against all her better judgment—that maybe she didn’t mind being caught in the storm, if it meant moments like this.