A little pre-slash, first encounter ficlet of Credence and Original Graves before the events of FBAWTFT I wrote based off of @milo36‘s artwork of Graves holding an umbrella over Credence. It’s so lovely (as is all their art), and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I had to write something. :>
The rain fell in sheets of thin needles, sharp and freezing to the touch, and Credence’s threadbare clothing did nothing to protect him from the elements. The cold seeped its way through the thin layers as easily as if it were guided, extracting the warmth from his body with no resistance. Icy droplets fell from the tip of his nose, his teeth chattered, and the small shivers that ran down his body felt more violent against his oversensitive nerves than they actually were.
Credence hugged the pamphlets to his chest, his hunched shoulders the only barrier protecting them from the weather, more concerned about keeping them dry than himself. Not even the rain was excuse enough to shirk his responsibilities. It was expected of him to hand out every last one of them. If they got wet, the ink would smudge, and they would be ruined. Ma would know. She always knew.
The bitter bite crept all the way to his extremities, toes like unmoveable cubes of ice in his shoes, fingers frozen stiff. The cold numbed away the feeling, leaving only room for pain, pulsing sharply through his limbs.
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