Though a lot of effort to maintain, you are able to keep up with Icarus for a few minutes, passing by so many roads in the span that you're almost positive you've sealed your fate as led astray again by the fourth turn.
It's only when you step on a deep puddle of rainwater did the fatigue finally catch up to you. You curse your luck. You were already wet from your chase, but now, you're drenched.
Drenched and lost. Again. You look around your surroundings— a pathway with large maple trees lining the track, leading to... Somewhere, I think.
You move forward, ignoring the burn of your eyes as you look for the biggest tree you could find, desperate for any sort of shade against the harsh beating of the rain, breathless, trudging your soaked shoes through developing muds along the pavement.
Then, the heavy taste of tart stings your tongue, and you groan.
The sensation has appeared so frequently that at this point, you've entertained the thought of a sentient microorganism living beneath your tongue. Maybe the reason Morrigan's pomegranate pie was so palatable was because it was alive— asking questions like 'Why aren't you thinking of me?' And if you are, 'why aren't you doing anything about it?'
But... I only ever get this bad taste in my mouth when I think of Morrigan...
Sneezing as you enter the tree's shade, progressively entering a sullen state, you pause as Icarus jumps in front of you. With his fur too doused down by water, he looks up to you with an expression too downcast for it to not be a grimace. He shakes his body and hisses at the feeling. You couldn't help a little of your laugh spilling from your shivering lips.
"T-the rain s—sucks, huh?" Icarus shudders in his spot once more in an effort to get rid of more of the rain clinging to him. "So it is really y-you, huh?" You ask him. He tilts his head in response and finally, steps closer. You smile, petting his head softly.
"Can you... C—can you accompany m-me back to M—Moonache?"
⊱━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━⊰
You could not stop the elated cry of relief at the first semblance of light reaching your sight, looking up at the only lively building among the dead structures of this place. Wherever this place is.
At the sight of the bakery, Icarus pushes as much of his remaining energy to dash to the entrance, a long drawn out yowl accompanying him.
You shove your musings away, running after him.
You both stop at the entrance, and as Icarus releases an impatient hiss, you put your palms on the fogged glass and push the double doors open for him. The cat does not wait for you when the warm indoor air hits him.
Of course, when it hits you, the sudden (and half) change in temperature nearly sends you falling back. "Y/N!" The same warm pair of hands that had held you steady days ago reemerges from your memories, brought to life by two worried eyes beholding you.
Arms tighten their hold on your waist, gradually constricting you closer to the body in front of you.
Before Morrigan manages to drag you inside in your glazed state, however, you stand your ground. "Wa—wait, if I go in, t-the floor will be r... ruined!"
Morrigan shakes her head, trying to pull you in by force. You plant your feet to the dirt more firmly. "I'd rather it than you." She says, frustrated at your resistance.
At your uncertainty, The woman chides you softly. "Y/N, you're shivering. Practically in shambles. Enter for my peace of mind, at least."
"Are you su—sure?" She nods, nothing like the way she usually moves— gracelessly; unconstrained. "I'm absolute."
With some of the remaining hesitance crumbing down at her urging, you step in, guided by her hands. As soon as you fully cross the entrance, the doors slam shut. "M-man, the wind is g-going haywire outside." You couldn't help but remark, seeing the glass shake from the force. Beside you, Morrigan continues to stare.
"You came back." She declares, pulling you closer until the both of you are almost hugging.
You nod. "H-hopefully not alone the next time. Y-you know, I t-told my friends about you."
"Oh. Did you?" She sounds displeased, though without its evidence written on her face, you push on.
"Yup! I wanted to drag them he—here but then I forgot where the b-bakery is located." She takes a strand of your hair and plays with it as you speak.
"It's elusive like that." She replies, in a tone as dry as it is ominous.
When your confusion takes a hold of your voice, she moves on and directs you to a chair for you to sit on. "I think it might be best for you to be alone in meeting me. I admit I'm still a bit reserved when it comes to crowds." Though disappointed, there's a certain selfish part in you that rejoices in the fact you get to enjoy her company alone for longer. Until she's ready, that is.
Hopefully Ai's misunderstanding-induced negative impression of Morrigan doesn't get the better of her when I drag her here in the future.
"W-when you say it's rare for cust—customers to end up here, what do you mean by that?"
The gentle baker covers you with a blanket, one you aren't quite sure when she had got the time to get since she had not left your side from the moment you were urged in, looking unusually tense at your question. "I mean... It takes a heavy rainfall for someone to find their way to Moonache, and people usually aren't too adventurous to go exploring the ruins of an abandoned part of your city, especially with the weather weighing them down."
"That sounds unusual. W-why the rain?" How does that even work?
Morrigan gives you a weary smile. "I promise I'll elaborate more on that later, Y/N." When she pats her pockets, seemingly looking for something, your eyes travel to the outfit she's wearing— a stunning sundress beneath the same violet apron that has strange engravings all over it. Is it from her culture? It looks too intricate to simply be a design...
When Morrigan fishes out a key, however, your mental question is momentarily forgotten by the object she shows off with excitement clear as day. "You got here just in time, sweetheart. I finally have the key to the cellar!"
"A cellar?" You follow the direction that Morrigan points to; a door beside the one that leads to the kitchen.
Where did that come from?! You twist your head to view the whole bakery. Now... There's three doors? Have they multiplied in a matter of days or was I really just so out of it that day?!
You eye the baker next to you thrumming in delight.
I'm not that stupid. Something's going on here.
You decide you won't say anything to not spoil her mood, chalking everything up to your lack of attentiveness in your surroundings for now.
Though a bit odd for this woman to be so excited over a cellar, you suppose that maybe she had locked something important inside.
"Your ingredients are sto—stored there?" You think you'd asked a stupid question, but Morrigan shakes her head. "Not quite. It's more of a bedchamber, actually." A... Bedchamber? In a bakery? I guess it's not that weird since she owns it...
Morrigan eyes you. "You could... Stay over, right now." Does she mean a slumber party? Cute. You smile at your thoughts.
"There's a bathroom inside. Even beds." She adds, thrilled at the thought of having you here for the night.
"And... They've been there? All along?"
"Yes." She replies readily, no elaboration needed, staring at you with anticipation.
Before you could answer, however, she interrupts you with a tug of your wrist. "Of course, you have time to think about it. I'll take you to said bathroom first so you could wash up. Did you forget that you're dripping?"
Jesus Christ... You feel your face heat up, standing up from your seat.
"By the way?" She monopolizes all your attention with all but a whisper. There is something unspoken only seen through her eyes, reminiscent of feelings those nightmares had evoked within you these recent nights since you had met her.
The strange tart on your tongue returns, this time, too overwhelming that your knees almost give out from underneath. Morrigan places her hands on your waist to steady you, leaning closer. Close enough that she gets to watch the effect of her breath hitting your ear. "Have you eaten yet, sweetheart?"
You wordlessly shake your head, afraid that any sound would lead to her widening the gap of your proximity together.
"Did you miss my food?" You shiver at her tone, too meaningful to simply look past. "Um, it... It certainly made its mark on me." You reply carefully.
Morrigan tilts her head, smiling as if she's the only one between the both of you in this room in on an amusing joke. "I could only imagine, Y/N."