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ﾟ。 soft as rain
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summary ◠ Seth walks you home after a long day at the beach, and somewhere between damp sand, shy smiles, and his too-big hoodie, the night turns into something you’ll keep folded in your heart for a long time.
warnings pure fluff, shy feelings, hand holding, soft kissing, Seth being an absolute sweetheart
The beach was colder after sunset.
Not freezing, exactly. Just cold enough that the wind kept sneaking under your sleeves and making you tuck your chin down, pretending you were fine when you very much were not.
He always noticed things like that.
“You’re cold,” he said, walking beside you with his hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie.
It was not a very intimidating look. Seth Clearwater trying to look serious was kind of like a puppy trying to guard a castle. Sweet, earnest, and completely impossible to take seriously.
“You’re doing that thing,” he said.
He smiled, just barely. “Where you pretend you’re not cold, but your shoulders are basically touching your ears.”
You huffed and looked away toward the water. The tide was moving in dark silver sheets, folding over itself again and again. Everyone else was still farther down the beach near the fire, their voices carrying in pieces through the wind. Laughter. Someone complaining about sand in their shoes. Embry being too loud about something that probably wasn’t that funny.
You and Seth had drifted away without really meaning to.
Or maybe you had meant to.
“I’m fine,” you said, quieter this time.
Seth didn’t argue. He just pulled off his hoodie.
You turned your head so fast you almost tripped. “Seth, no.”
He laughed under his breath, all soft and boyish. “I run hot, remember?”
“That’s not fair. You can’t use the werewolf thing every time you want to win.”
“I can, actually.” He held the hoodie out to you, sleeves dangling. “It’s kind of my only advantage.”
The hoodie was warm when you took it, the inside holding onto him like it didn’t want to let go. It smelled like laundry soap, smoke from the fire, and something that was just Seth. Clean and warm and a little wild around the edges.
You pulled it over your head, and it swallowed you almost immediately.
Seth stared for half a second too long.
Your face went warm. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said again, but he was smiling now, staring hard at the sand like it had suddenly become very interesting. “It just looks better on you.”
Your heart did something embarrassing.
A tiny, traitorous little jump.
You tugged the sleeves over your hands. “You say stuff like that and then act all innocent.”
“I am,” he insisted, grinning now. “I’m literally the nicest person here.”
“That doesn’t mean innocent.”
He seemed to think about that, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Fair.”
You laughed, and Seth looked over at you like he had been waiting for that sound all day.
That was the thing about him.
He looked at you like small things mattered.
Like your laugh was something worth earning. Like your silence was something worth sitting with. Like your bad moods didn’t scare him off, and your good moods made the whole world tilt brighter.
You kept walking together, leaving soft prints in the damp sand. The sky was bruised purple, clouds dragging low over the water. Seth walked close enough that your shoulders bumped every now and then, and every time it happened, neither of you moved away.
Eventually, the beach path curved up toward the road.
Your house wasn’t far from there. Not really.
But Seth slowed down anyway.
He glanced at you, then away. “I can walk you the rest of the way.”
“I mean all the way. Like to your porch.”
You raised an eyebrow. “My porch is very dangerous.”
“Exactly. You never know.” His voice dropped into an exaggerated whisper. “There could be raccoons.”
You burst out laughing, and Seth smiled so wide that his eyes crinkled.
“See?” he said. “You need protection.”
“From raccoons. From uneven sidewalks. From, I don’t know, spooky wind.”
You shook your head, but you let him walk you home.
The road was quiet, the kind of quiet that made every little sound feel closer. The crunch of gravel under your shoes. The whisper of trees shifting in the dark. Seth’s breath when he laughed softly at his own dumb jokes.
At some point, your hand brushed his.
Neither of you said anything.
The third time, Seth’s fingers curled around yours.
Careful. Warm. Asking without words.
His hand was much warmer than yours. Bigger too, though he held you so gently it made your chest ache a little.
You nodded, but your voice came out soft. “Yeah.”
His thumb moved once over your knuckles.
It was enough to make you forget what walking was supposed to feel like.
For a while, you both stayed quiet. Not awkward quiet. The good kind. The kind that settled around you like a blanket.
When your house finally came into view, porch light glowing honey-yellow through the dark, you almost felt disappointed.
Seth stopped at the bottom step.
You turned to face him, still wearing his hoodie, your hand still in his.
“Thanks to you. The raccoons didn’t stand a chance.”
He smiled, but it was softer now. Nervous around the edges.
The porch light caught on his face, all warm brown eyes and wind-messy hair. He looked younger when he was nervous. Not in a bad way. Just honest. Like every feeling he had showed up on his face before he could hide it.
“I should probably let you go inside,” he said.
His fingers squeezed yours once, barely there.
“I don’t really want to,” he admitted.
The words were so simple, but they landed right in the middle of you.
You looked down at your shoes, smiling like you couldn’t help it. “Then don’t yet.”
Then his smile came back, slow and bright, like sunrise trying to be quiet.
You sat together on the porch steps.
Your shoulder leaned into his, and after a moment, his head tipped lightly against yours. His warmth soaked through the hoodie, through the cold night, through every nervous little thought you had been trying to ignore.
“You know,” he said after a while, “I really like when you’re around.”
You stared at the dark yard, your heart thumping. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Like… a lot.”
There was no teasing in his voice now.
No joke tucked behind it.
Sweet, nervous Seth, putting his heart down between you like something fragile.
You turned your head. He was already looking at you.
For a second, neither of you breathed right.
It was barely a kiss at first. Soft and shy, just a little press of your lips against his. Seth froze for half a heartbeat, and you almost pulled away.
Then his hand found yours again.
He kissed you back gently, like he was afraid of doing it wrong, like he wanted to remember every single second.
When you pulled away, his eyes stayed closed for a moment.
Then he opened them and gave you the smallest, most dazed smile.
You laughed, covering your face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Don’t say it like that.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, laughing too. “I just… wow.”
“Yeah.” His cheeks were pink. “Definitely wow.”
You nudged him with your shoulder. “You’re so embarrassing.”
“I know.” He looked very pleased about it. “But you kissed me, so I think you like embarrassing.”
You tried to glare at him.
He smiled at you, soft and proud and still a little stunned.
The porch light hummed above you. The night moved gently around the house. Somewhere far away, the ocean kept breathing against the shore.
And Seth, still holding your hand, leaned a little closer.
“Can I kiss you again?” he asked.
Your heart folded itself into something small and glowing.
This time, when he kissed you, he smiled halfway through.
And you knew, even before the night ended, that you were going to think about it for a long time.
