“I’m extremely patient.” From Hina!
Slay the Princess! || Accepting!! || @anecdotale
Rain had begun as something easy to ignore, just a passing drizzle that Gabriella had assumed would thin out before she finished her errand. It had not. Instead, it had deepened into a steady, unbroken sheet that turned the market streets into a blur of shifting color and hurried footsteps. She had been halfway through stepping away from the apothecary stall when the sky finally made its decision for her. A sharp gust rolled through the square, and within moments the rain thickened enough that even the most determined shoppers began to scatter. Gabriella paused beneath the nearest awning, watching as someone nearby snapped open an umbrella that immediately turned inside out. A quiet, resigned exhale left her.
“Well,” she said under her breath, more to herself than anyone else, “it seems I may be here for a while.” She adjusted her grip on the small paper parcel she had just purchased, tucking it closer to her coat as if it might somehow be protected from the weather by proximity alone. Only then did she notice she was not alone beneath the awning. The woman beside her had arrived without fanfare, as if she had always been there and Gabriella had simply failed to register it until now. Calm posture, composed expression, and that same strange stillness that made her feel like something just slightly out of step with the world around them. No umbrella.
That detail, more than anything, explained the situation. Hergaze flicked briefly toward the rain again, then back to her companion. “You don’t have one either,” she observed quietly, as though stating a simple fact rather than pointing out shared misfortune. “So I suspect we may be here for a while.” There was no accusation in it, only a mild, almost absent curiosity. Still, she shifted a fraction to give the other woman more space beneath the narrow shelter of the awning, careful not to intrude.
Rain whispered steadily against the canvas above them, spilling in thin streams that caught the gray light and broke it into something softer. The market beyond had begun to dissolve into shapes and motion rather than people, voices muffled by weather and distance. The witch watched it for a moment longer, then let out a small, thoughtful breath. “That may be unfortunate for you,” she murmured, though there was the faintest suggestion of humor beneath the warning. Her gaze shifted toward the rain rather than remaining on Hinata, watching strangers hurry through it with coats drawn over their heads. “People who are patient with me tend to discover that I’m very good at wasting it.”
It was easier to make herself sound difficult than afraid. Difficult people were eventually left alone. Frightened ones were questioned, comforted, or examined too closely, and Gabriella had never known what to do with kindness once it began searching for the wound beneath her evasions. Still, she did not step away. Her senses continued to catch upon something unusual beneath Hinata’s serene presence. There was life there, certainly, but it moved strangely quiet and cool, like a flame preserved beneath glass. It reminded Gabriella of the narrow place between a final breath and the silence that followed, though it lacked the emptiness she associated with death. Whatever Hinata was, she did not feel cruel. That realization did little to quiet her curiosity, but it kept the instinct to retreat from becoming an action.
After another moment, the witch glanced back at her, hazel eyes carrying an apology she had not yet put into words. “I wasn’t staring because I thought you were dangerous,” she admitted softly. It was not the entire truth, though it was close enough to offer. “You simply feel different, and I have an unfortunate habit of noticing things that people would rather keep private.” Her fingers loosened slightly around the parcel. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I know how unpleasant it is when a stranger believes curiosity entitles them to answers.” A small, self-conscious smile touched her mouth before fading. “But if you truly are that patient, perhaps I could at least offer you tea while we wait for the rain to stop. I’m usually somewhat less evasive once I’ve had something warm to hold.”
