"Run the whole way? As in, we're still going to run part of the way?" My voice edged up a few octaves.
He grinned tightly. "You're not going to run."
"I'm going to be sick."
"Keep your eyes closed, you'll be fine."
I bit my lip, fighting the panic.
He leaned over to kiss the top of my head, and then groaned. I looked at him, puzzled.
"You smell so good in the rain," he explained.
"In a good way, or in a bad way?" I asked cautiously.
He sighed. "Both, always both."
I don't know how he found his way in the gloom and downpour, but he somehow found a side road that was less of a road and more of a mountain path. For a long while conversation was impossible, because I was bouncing up and down on the seat like a jackhammer. He seemed to enjoy the ride, though, smiling hugely the whole way.
And then we came to the end of the road; the trees formed green walls on three sides of the Jeep. The rain was a mere drizzle, slowing every second, the sky brighter through the clouds.
"Sorry, Kookie, we have to go on foot from here."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You know what? I'll just wait here."
"What happened to all your courage? You were extraordinary this morning."
"I haven't forgotten the last time yet." Could it have been only yesterday?
He was around to my side of the car in a blur. He started unbuckling me.
"I'll get those, you go on ahead," I protested.
"Hmmm..." he mused as he quickly finished. "It seems I'm going to have to tamper with your memory."
Before I could react, he pulled me from the Jeep and set my feet on the ground. It was barely misting now; Jimin was going to be right.
"Tamper with my memory?" I asked nervously.
"Something like that." He was watching me intently, carefully, but there was humor deep in his eyes.
He placed his hands against the Jeep on either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press back against the door. He leaned in even closer, his face inches from mine. I had no room to escape.
"Now," he breathed, and just his smell disturbed my thought processes, "what exactly are you worrying about?"
"Well, um, hitting a tree —" I gulped "— and dying. And then getting sick."