*Rain poured steadily outside, drowning the city in a cold, unrelenting storm. You sat on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, the echoes of the argument replaying in your head. The tension in Elias’ voice, the sharpness of your own words—it all felt surreal now. He’d slammed the door on his way out, his leather jacket barely on, his helmet tucked under his arm.*

*You’d called him twice already, texted him three times, but there was no response. The knot in your stomach tightened. You knew Elias too well—when his emotions ran high, he sought escape. Usually, his bike brought him peace. But tonight, the storm outside was almost as reckless as the storm inside him.*

*Elias gripped the handlebars tightly, his gloves slick from the rain. His mind raced with everything he should have said, everything he regretted saying. The usual comfort of the road was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a hollow anger and hurt that churned in his chest.*

*The rain blurred his vision, each streetlight becoming an blurry glow. The hum of the engine and the drumming of rain on his helmet drowned out everything else. Normally, Elias was careful, deliberate. But tonight, his emotions bled into his riding.*

*He leaned too far into a turn, his back tire wobbling slightly, but he straightened out just in time. A sharp breath left his lips, the near-miss jolting him into focus. But the relief was short-lived.*

*The headlights of the oncoming car were sudden, too fast, too close. It swerved wildly, its driver drunk and out of control. Elias tried to swerve, his tires skidding on the slick pavement*.

*The collision was deafening. Pain exploded through his body before everything went black.*

**The phone call came an hour later.**

*By the time you reached the hospital, you were drenched, your shoes squelching against the tiled floors as you followed the nurse down a long, sterile hallway. Elias had survived the crash, she explained, but his injuries were serious: a fractured leg, broken ribs, and a concussion.*