They couldn't make it back to their homes-- either of them. Water poured from outside the little gazebo, their jackets already peppered with the first of the downpour. Esteban tossed his off his back and onto the nearby picnic table, huffing his amusement.

"Woops~ so we didn't beat the rain," he snickers, ruffling a hand through his red hair as he glances at his companion. At least the late summer meant the water is fairly warm.

"Are y' gonna melt from it?"

That's a bit mean though. Loki is hardly the Wicked Witch of the West, just-- but the words are out of his mouth, and Esteban has never been really good with them.