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You are a simple girl who enjoys two things: hiking and Jade Leech. So when said moray invites you to accompany him on one of his mountain escapades, the decision is an easy one.
Inhaling deeply fills your nostrils with the scents of nature. The earthy smell of the rich soil beneath your feet, the crisp scent of the forest trees intermingled with the richness of the sap stuck to it, the overall cleanness of the natural air, not to mention the handsome man by your side—you were just about the happiest girl alive.
That is, until something wet hits your outstretched hand with a plip. Another plops on the top of your head. When you look up, two land on your face. Plip, plip, plip.
It turns into a full-blown downpour in a matter of seconds. You squeal as you fumble with your hood, your hair growing wetter by the second and the coldness seeping into your brain.
Referencing your earlier statement, the two things you enjoy are hiking and Jade Leech. Rain, notably, is not one of those things.
Jade turns, and his eyes soften when they land on your shuddering form under the poor protection of a tree. A soft puff of laughter escapes his nose as he walks over to you and stands by your side.
“Are you not a fan of the rain?” he asks.
You rapidly shake your head. The rain is cold, it makes your hair frizzy, ruins your makeup, and gets you all wet. You had spent so much time figuring out how to put yourself together for this hike in a way that would be both practical and flattering, only for the rain to ruin it with a few droplets.
“Are you?” Judging by the way he has not even flipped up his hood and wears a contented smile, you get the feeling you know what the answer will be.
He chuckles, and the sound warms your heart so much that you almost forget how cold you are. “I do,” he answers. “The sensation of the rain against my skin is quite comforting. It’s novel in the sense that we have no similar phenomena underwater, but it still provides me with moisture that the usual air lacks.”
Despite his statement, he waves his magic pen with a flourish, and an umbrella drops into his free hand. You tilt your head curiously. “I thought you liked the rain.”
“I do, but you don’t.” He opens it and holds it over both of your heads with a smile. A sweet, tender smile, not at all like the polite tight-lipped one he has perpetually plastered on his face or the threateningly toothy one when he is permitted to let loose. This smile is quite nice. He ought to wear it more, you think. “Shall we begin ambling back to the campus? It will be more slippery the longer we wait.”
“Yeah,” you agree quickly, tightly crossing your arms over your chest for warmth as you follow him—or rather, follow the shade of the umbrella. He walks slowly so you can keep up with his long legs. Everyone tells you that Jade is conniving and duplicitous, but he is never anything but sweet to you. You can only hope that the reason for the difference in behavior is the same as your dreams.
The two of you walk, and you are careful not to slip. You do not think you could handle the embarrassment of slipping in front of your crush. Still, whenever you two come upon a steep patch, Jade graciously offers an arm out to you to assist you in your descent, and you always accept.
Before long, you reach the bottom of the hill. The downpour is not letting up; in fact, it is pouring harder than ever. You huddle closer to Jade under the guise of more protection from the torrent. The rain is so bad, though, that you probably would have huddled up to him regardless of your feelings for him anyway.
Then the canopy of the umbrella flies off, leaving Jade holding nothing more than a metal stick. As though to mock you, your hood flaps off as well, flipping off whenever you attempt to put it back on.
“Oh, dear,” he chuckles, lips breaking into a smile that displays his pointy pearly whites. He looks so amused that you can hardly feel salty about it, though the feeling of water soaking your hair makes you want to implode. You must look ridiculous.
Jade seems to notice your change in demeanor, because his eyebrows knit together, though his lips still adorn that humored grin. “Does the rain truly bother you so much?”
“I spent so much time getting ready today,” you pout, running your hands through the front of your hair and unsuccessfully attempting to fluff it. A frustrated groan escapes you, and you kick a nearby tree. “All of that for nothing?”
His brows raise slightly, grin widening with just as much subtlety. “My, I’m flattered you spent so much time on your appearance for a hike with me.” He sets his hand on your shoulder lightly, and you stare up at him with a reddening face. His expression shifts mischievously as he drawls, “Or is it because you are in my presence that you dressed up like so?”
He is only about a foot away, leaning in as he awaits your response. Somehow, despite your ruined, drenched state, you get the feeling that this is the moment you have been waiting for.
“Yeah.”
That is all you can bring yourself to say. His eyes widen, and when your gaze lands on his cheeks, you feel like you are floating.
He’s blushing. Jade Leech is blushing because of you.
Your cheeks feel as redder than the light blush dusting his, but you continue, “I like you, so I wanted you to think I looked pretty.”
Reeling, he glances to the side, and you relish the sight of his cheeks darkening even more. “Is… Is that so?”
You nod firmly, though remembering what you look like makes you blush and stare at your feet bashfully. “This isn’t what I wanted to look like when I confessed.”
“What do you mean?” You look up to find him smiling down at you. He brushes a wet strand of hair that was stuck to your forehead out of your face. “You looked stunning when I first saw you, but you look radiant right now as well.” His hands lower to yours, gently capturing them.
Stunning? Radiant? This has to be a dream.
“Please,” you laugh, gripping his gloved hands to try and siphon their warmth into yours. “I’m soaked.”
“I think you’re forgetting something,” he chuckles, tilting your chin up. The action takes your breath away. “I’m a merman. We are constantly soaked.”
The statement makes you freeze, processing his kind yet almost patronizing smile—as though he feels sorry that your mind did mental gymnastics to avoid recalling the simple fact that he is a merman—before you break out in a grin and start laughing. When you laugh, he begins to as well, and you squeeze his hands to stabilize yourself to not double over from the hilarity of it all.
“You’re a merman,” you cackle, the gasping laughter escaping you sounding positively unhinged compared to his calmer chuckling, but he beams back at you, and you spin him.
He seems taken aback, going silent for a moment before laughter bubbles out of him once again. You unlace one of your hands to go to his shoulder, controlling your mindless spinning into a simple waltz you learned in elementary school. It is primitive and basic. You giggle as he steps on your toes multiple times, both of you occasionally slipping in the slick mud, raindrops pelting both of your faces. You don’t care one bit. Simply doing this with Jade makes you feel like everything is right in the world.
Hands intertwined, the scent of petrichor filling the air, his adoration-filled gaze. You would scale a million rainy mountains if it meant you could have moments like this for the rest of your life.