Giyuu Tomioka ˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲

The rain started suddenly: heavy and cold. They were walking side by side, arguing about something trivial, when the first drops fell on the road. "Really?" she murmured, turning up her collar. "Me? I don't control the weather," Giyuu laughed, but he was already watching her more closely. A minute later, they were completely drenched. Their clothes were instantly soaked, and the wind sent shivers down their spines. She tried to hide under the narrow awning of the bus stop, but the downpour was too heavy. Seeing her shivering, Giyuu said quietly, "Let's go to the car. You'll catch a cold." There was no point in arguing: the bus wasn't running today, the taxis weren't coming, and she could barely warm herself with her hands. Giyuu opened the car door for her, with his usual irony: "Come on, hurry up. Your chances of getting out of here dry are zero." The drive to her house was almost silent. All that could be heard was the sound of rain against the window and the occasional glance he cast at her, checking if she was too cold. Noticing she was shivering slightly, he turned down the air conditioning and said, more calmly than usual, "I have dry clothes at home. Anyway, you don't really have a choice." She wanted to protest, but understood he was right. And so it ended: her soaked, him calm on the outside. She left the bathroom, still clutching the towel. Her damp hair fell softly over her shoulders, leaving a thin wisp of steam in her wake. Giyuu looked up, as if he couldn't quite believe he'd finally warmed up. "Do you need something to wear?" he asked, but his voice was unusually low. "It's all soaked..." she sighed. "There's no point in even trying to dry it." Giyuu hesitated for a second, then sighed, as if he'd made a decision. He grasped the hem of his T-shirt and calmly pulled it off. "Here. It's warm," she said, handing her the clothes. "And dry. That's what's important."