✮ the beauty in our love ✮
TW: unedited, pureee fluff!!! classic romance tropes, typical lesbian activities--taking u-haul to the next level...
SUMMARY: rain, a slip, and a change encounter makes the perfect recipe for a love story.
WC: 2.5k
A/N: "nimxie x reader when??" "someone should write a nimxie x reader, I feel like that would be so funny" well, i did it!! this is obviously dedicated to @nimxie, i hope you like it nimmie🩷
The sidewalks are wet with a dewy, thin layer of water, and the clouds in the sky are a dark gray boarding on black. A sea of umbrellas litter the streets and walkways, all varying in color, size, shape, and pattern, but serving the same purpose: to block the heavy rain falling from the sky in large crystalline droplets.
On days such as these, most would barricade in their homes, choosing to cozy up in their beds and watch beads of water drip down their windows like small rivers. Perhaps they would be joined by a lover, a friend, or a pet.
Most would choose to not venture into the wilderness that is a heavy downpour in the city—especially without an umbrella.
…Most, except for you.
“5 minutes to make it to the cafe.” You chant while squeezing past other pedestrians, calling out a half-hearted “sorry” after every annoyed grumble or mild shout of displeasure you receive. Everyone around you has an umbrella clutched in one hand, while the other holds their phone or a bag.
Neither of which you have.
Instead, you’re clutching onto what little dignity you have left as heavy droplets of rain dot your clothing, darkening its fabric and sending a chill up your spine.
Is rushing to a cafe without an umbrella or coat in the middle of the heaviest downpour you’ve ever experienced the smartest decision you’ve made? No, definitely not, and you’re most certainly going to wake up with a high fever or aching cold tomorrow, but if it gets you out of another round of humiliation dealt to you by your friends, then so be it.
You’ve decided that your tardiness will no longer be the butt of the joke—although perhaps you are proving them right by the way you’re bumping into strangers just to get there on time—
One misstep. That’s all it took.
Simply the action of the soles of your shoes colliding forcefully against the wet sidewalk in one fast motion, and your entire body slips, surging forward into something you can’t see—
Or more accurately, someone you can’t see.
You feel and hear them before your spinning vision catches up—a firm warmth followed by a gust of a surprise gasp, and then the sensation of something pleasant wrapping around you—more heat, like a warm blanket.
It’s only when you catch your breath and blink once, twice, three times that you see the someone you bumped into.
Locks of golden tresses cascade down her head, falling onto her shoulders with a slight swoop. A mix of brown and light emerald, almost hazel-colored irises stare back at you, only a thin ring visible with her pupils enlarged in surprise.
The last feature you notice is her lips, which are soft and painted red, possibly due to the frosty cold air.
“Woah.” The stranger mutters, seeming to have gathered her bearings quicker than you. “Are you okay?”
For a moment, you say nothing, feeling almost physically unable to rip your eyes away from the stranger in front of you.
But then you see it.
Two arms wrapped around you, one on your waist, the other on your shoulder.
“You don’t have an umbrella.” You mumble absentmindedly, completely disregarding her question.
The stranger stares at you for a beat before laughing in disbelief, her eyes scrunching up and her lips tilting upwards in a half smile. “That’s what you care about?”
You open your mouth immediately, thinking of something to say, but ultimately come up short. “Well,” you speak up, but are cut off.
“You don’t have an umbrella either.” She points upward, guiding your gaze to the murky sky that releases beads of clear liquid onto your face and clothing.
“That’s why I was so surprised.” You shift your gaze back to the stranger, who has now retracted her arms, instead choosing to cross them in front of her chest. She’s wearing an expectant smirk as she looks you up and down, perhaps hoping to see what excuse you’ll come up with. "I didn't think someone would forget their umbrella in such a downpour—"
“I didn’t forget my umbrella.” The stranger interrupts, smiling widely.
You’re about to reply with a witty comment when your fuzzy mind suddenly clears, and you remember why you’re out in the rain, why you’d been running so fast that you bumped into the stranger in the first place. “Fuck.” You smack the palm of your hand against your forehead, wincing at the dull sting that blooms on your skin. “I have to go—”
Before you’re even able to take a full step in the direction of the cafe, a hand shoots out to grab at your wrist, keeping you in place. “You’re leaving already?” The stranger says, a playful pout on her soft lips.
You glance down at the stranger’s grip on your arm, but raise no complaints in response. “My friends are waiting for me.” You point behind you at the cafe which is only about fifteen paces away.
“And you’re going to go in, soaking wet?” The stranger once again smirks at you, eyeing your admittedly, practically sopping wet clothes.
“My house is far—” You try to explain.
“Then come to mine. I was just heading there.” The stranger offers. “I can let you borrow my clothes and get you dry.”
At her words, your mouth drops in shock, and your eyes double in size. “We just met—”
“You mean when you bumped into me?” She quips. “I’ll consider us even if you do this one thing.”
Most people would laugh in the stranger’s face or politely refuse before walking away with incredibly quick strides towards the cafe, sit down, and then tell their friends all about the bold stranger they’d bumped into.
…But then again, most wouldn’t have bumped into the stranger in the first half place.
“If I'm going to go with you, we can’t be strangers.” You reply after a long beat of uneasy silence. Taking a step forward in the direction the stranger had been walking towards.
She’s quick to follow after you, her smile widening. “You can call me Nim.”
“Okay Nim, tell me more about yourself.”
The stranger—well, Nim turned out to be a fascinating individual, beyond just her attractive features and witty remarks. Words like modeling, fashion, theater, and even motorcycle were thrown around, each tidbit about her life intriguing you more than the next.
“Do you drive your motorcycle often?” You ask, following Nim into her home. She gestures for you to make yourself comfortable, but the most you do is politely sit on the couch.
“Sort of, yeah.” Nim answers, briefly entering the bathroom to pluck a few towels. She pops into the living room and offers you a warm towel, while she keeps the other tucked between her arms. “Dry yourself off while I get you some dry clothes, yeah?”
You smile sheepishly at Nim and nod, which gives her the go-ahead to retreat into her room and rummage through her clothing.
Rubbing your fingers against the towel for a moment, you then lift the soft fabric, using it to dry off your extremely wet hair. It takes longer than you expected, and multiple rounds of patting to get your hair semi-dry.
By the time you’ve finished, Nim walks out of her bedroom, carrying a stack of fresh clothing—she’s also changed, leaving behind the button-up shirt that’d loosely hung off her shoulders and switching into a dry, comfortable shirt.
“Here,” Nim mumbles, handing you her clothing with a smile. However, when she notices the light sheen of water still clinging to your hair, she frowns. “You missed a spot.” She gently takes the towel out of your hand and splays it over your hair, carefully patting dry the top of your head, which you hadn’t been able to see was still wet.
Behind the towel draped over your head, a fire burns in your cheeks and the pit of your stomach at Nim’s touch. She’s gentle, sweet, and caring, something you never expected from someone whom you just met less than thirty minutes prior.
“There.” Nim pulls away from you, taking the towel off your hair and examining it one last time to make sure she hasn’t missed any spots. When she sees none, she smiles again and places the towel under her arm. “You’re dry now. You can head into the bathroom and change.” She gestures at the door to the bathroom.
You take a deep breath, still recovering from what she had done a few seconds before. Standing up, you take her clothes and give her a half-bashful smile. “Thank you for this.”
Nim smiles easily and shrugs. “Of course.”
You send her one last smile before heading into the bathroom and changing into the clothing she handed you.
Once changed, you take a brief moment to collect yourself and stare into the mirror, thinking about everything that just happened. Not only had you embarrassingly slipped and almost fell onto the sidewalk because you were running late to a coffee outing with your friends, but you’d also bumped into a stranger—a pretty one, at that—whose apartment you’re now in, wearing her clothes.
This had to be the plot of one, if not multiple romcoms.
Finally feeling ready to exit, you twist the handle to the bathroom door and step out, your eyes immediately finding Nim, who’s leaning against the wall and scrolling through her phone. She looks up at the sound of the door and smiles at you, observing the way you look in her clothing. “You look good.”
You smile back at her, doing a playful spin. “You think so?”
“Yeah.” Nim laughs, turning her phone off and placing it in her pocket. “Hey, listen, I wanted to ask you something…”
You hum, a flurry of nervous butterflies flapping around in your stomach.
“It stopped raining.” Nim’s smile turns slightly awkward but is still tinged with confidence. “Do you want to go to the beach with me?”
“The beach?” You question, your eyebrows raising out of instinct.
“Yeah, why not?” Nim replies casually, stuffing her hands into her pockets.
“Isn’t it still cloudy and cold?” You attempt to find a window to look out into the city, but there are none in your line of vision.
“That’s the best time to go to the beach.” Nim quips, smirking. When you give her a confused look, she elaborates. “It’s cold and gloomy, no one else will be there.”
You still in your spot, mulling over her logic until a small smile settles onto your lips. “I guess you’re right.”
Nim wears a proud smile as she takes a step forward, boldly coming closer to you. “So, what do you say? Will you come with me to the beach on a date, or will you go back to that little cafe?”
“A date.” Your breath hitches, that fiery feeling from before becoming borderline feverish as you stare into Nim’s shining hazel eyes. She’s so confident it almost intimidates you, but there’s an undertone of softness lying just beyond the surface.
Something tugs at your heart. A sort of inexplicable feeling—an intuition. It’s begging you to go with her, pleading with you, crying out to you—
“I’ll go.” You whisper, shifting your gaze from one of her hazel eyes to the next.
The smile Nim had been dawning stretches impossibly wider. “Good.” She takes a step back, and you try to ignore the small part of you that feels disappointed by the action. “I’ll get you a jacket so you’re not cold.”
Nim disappears for a moment into her room, and then returns with an oversized jacket. You expect her to hand it to you, but instead, she places it on your shoulders with a smirk.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
There’s something beautiful about seeing things the way they aren’t meant to be seen. A beach, which is normally full of piping hot white sand, screaming children, and crashing ocean waves, is nothing of the sort on a gloomy day.
The beach is desolate, the sand reflects the light gray colors of the clouds hanging above, and the waves only beat against the shore calmly—hesitantly, and sheepishly. Unlike the excitement and fever of a hot beach day, the cold wind that encompasses the air holds a type of serenity and peacefulness.
It’s quietly beautiful, much like the company you keep.
“What do you think?” Nim sits next to you, digging her shoes into the shining gray sand below. It caves around her soles pliantly, small particles dipping into the crevasses of her shoes.
“I love it.” You whisper, moving to sit next to her. Together, you silently watch the crystalline waves of water dampen the sand of the shore, making her color deepen as wetness clings to the minerals. “Hey, Nim,” you pipe up, glancing at Nim from your peripheral.
She turns to look at you, her eyebrows furrowing, but the small smile on her lips never fades. “Yeah?”
“If you didn’t forget your umbrella…” you trail off for a moment, “why are you out in the rain without one?”
Nim shifts so that she’s facing the beach once again, a fondness lighting up her eyes. “The ocean is beautiful, isn’t it?” She suddenly asks you.
You wear a puzzled expression for a moment, but nod. “Yeah, it is.”
“Rain is beautiful too.” Nim continues, her voice full of passion. “I don’t get the point of trying to repel it. Why would you ever want to repel something so beautiful?”
You turn to face Nim out of instinct, a fire alight in your body again. You say nothing in response, only smile at her in admiration.
“Water is beautiful.” She says softly, now looking at you with her mesmerizing eyes. “You are beautiful.”
In that moment, you swear the world stops. The ocean’s waves freeze, the air stills, and the clouds above you pause. Everything stops.
It's just you and Nim, sitting on the beach together, gazing at each other, an inexplicable connection forming between you two like the magic woven by the gentle whispers of the ocean waves.
The bond makes you shiver, a pleasant chill running up your spine which makes you shake.
Nim notices and places her hand next to yours against the sand, gently brushing them together. “Are you cold?” She asks, moving in close.
“No.” You whisper, staring between her lips and her eyes.
Nim offers you one last smile before she leans in and connects your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.
Time resumes, the calm waves washing against the shore and the air whipping around you both.
Then, a small dot of something cold and wet hits your face, which makes you smile into the kiss. More tiny droplets follow before they become larger and more frequent, rain clinging onto your eyelashes and trickling down your cheek until they bridge the gap between your and Nim's lips.
If rain holds beauty, so too does the enchanting sight of your kiss—a delicate convergence of lips, soft and sweet, akin to a dance shared by old lovers, newly reunited.
Perhaps, the true beauty lies in your love.
