#caesercomplexio

Send ☔︎ for my muse’s reaction to yours holding his umbrella over her.

Huddled with her knees to her chest on a bench in the park, Rika has to admit, the last thing she expects is the rain that’s drenching her to suddenly stop. Lifting her head to investigate, hoping she’ll still be able to blame her tears on the rain, she’s surprised for the second time in moments.

“K-Kirito?!” she splutters, blushing lightly when her voice cracks and furiously wiping her face with her sleeves. It doesn’t do much good since she’s soaked to the bone and back, but it’s the principle of the matter. She doesn’t want him, of all people, to know she’s been crying.

Eyes meeting his once more, she takes in their situation for the first time: he’s letting himself get soaked while he holds the umbrella he brought over her. Protectiveness flares inside her at once, and she shoots to her feet. “What the hell are you doing, you idiot?!” She pushes the umbrella back over him, hand on his, following so she’s under it, too. “You’re going to get sick! Think about yourself for once!”

But saying that to him is like telling the sky not to be blue, she knows. That’s just one of the many, many things she loves about him. So it’s not unexpected at all when he just smiles softly and shrugs, shaking his head.

“Sorry, Lis, but you know I can’t do that. It’s just not in my DNA.” There’s an instant’s reprieve, and then, before she even realizes what’s happening, he’s taking her into his arms as best he can, resting his cheek against the side of her head. Her face is pressed into his warm, if still wet, thick jacket, and once her mind catches up, her arms slowly reach around him to curl fists in it at the same time she burrows deeper into his chest. She can feel it, his eyes narrowing slightly, the concern in them, and when he tucks a wet strand of brown hair behind her ear, there’s so much tenderness in it that it almost sets her off again for a new reason entirely. “Now, do you want to tell me why you were crying?”

Damn. Caught red-handed.

At first, she’s reluctant. She doesn’t want to bug anyone with this, especially not him. He’s been through enough already. If anyone deserves to be worry-free and blissful in ignorance, it’s him.

His arms tighten around her protectively at her silence, and she knows she can’t leave him hanging. She has no choice but to come clean - for his sake, not hers. If nothing else, at least he’s someone who’ll understand.