Work Text:
Yasha was a storm.
Beau was drawn to her from the moment they met. When their eyes met, she felt her face heat up, her heartbeat in her ears like thunder. When she flirted, she could’ve sworn she saw a hint of a blush across Yasha’s pale face, but at the time she chalked it up to bad lighting and wishful thinking.
They got to know each other, and grew closer from that day on. When Yasha was away, Beau pined, looking out and hoping for dark clouds, for a hint that the other woman was returning. When Yasha was with her, she was captivated, idly watching her go about her business. Her face burned when Yasha caught her looking, but she pushed through her embarrassment and grinned at her anyways.
Things changed around them, but the two found a comfortable constant in each other. They grew closer with their group of friends, and they grew closer as a pair, both knowing the other had her back. They worked well together, almost surprisingly so. Yasha was a force of nature, an immovable pillar, and Beau was all unstoppable momentum, complementing and challenging Yasha all at once.
The way their relationship developed was like heavy clouds gathering before a storm, with the smell of rain on the air and static in the atmosphere giving promise of lightning. Then one day, the clouds finally gave way to the coming downpour.
Beau had made her interest clear, but when she found that it was reciprocated, it was still something of a surprise. Yasha’s touch was lightning, one hand at her waist and one on her cheek, and Beau swore she felt a spark.
Yasha was a storm, and Beau found herself falling in love with the rain.