𝔻é𝕛à 𝕣ê𝕧é 𝟚𝟙+ 𝕁𝕁𝕂

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟞𝟞: 𝔸𝕔𝕔𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥

PS: I literally love Jade Lemac's music so much.

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ ♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ ♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　

The car glides through the deserted streets, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Kook's hand drops from her face to rest heavily on her thigh, his fingers digging into her flesh. His eyes are on the road, but she can feel his anger radiating through his touch.  Amelia's breath catches in her throat as Kook's hand rests heavily on her thigh, a stark reminder of his dominance. She tries to push his hand away, her eyes pleading. "Kook, please," she whispers. "I can't do this." Her voice is a shaky mess of emotions, a blend of fear, anger, and desperation.

Amelia's body starts to tremble, the weight of the situation crashing down on her like a wave. Her chest feels tight, her breaths shallow and fast. She looks out the window, the passing streetlights creating a strobe effect that makes her dizzy. The world outside seems to be spinning, and she clutches at the car door handle. Kook's gaze flicks from the road to Amelia, his expression softening slightly at the sight of her distress. He releases her thigh and shifts closer, his hand moving to gently cup her cheek. "Look at me," he says softly, his voice a soothing balm over her fear.

His voice is a gentle rumble in the confines of the car, a stark contrast to the earlier ferocity. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmurs, his thumb brushing away the tear that clings to her lashes. "I didn't mean to scare you." His eyes search hers, the anger dissipating to be replaced by a deep, aching need for her. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. "I just can't lose you," he whispers into her hair, his breath warm against her neck. His grip loosens, and his touch becomes tender, almost desperate. He strokes her back in soothing circles, his heart hammering in his chest as he feels her tension begin to ease. "Let's go home," he suggests, his voice a gentle coax. "We'll talk this out."

Amelia's body relaxes slightly into Kook's embrace as she takes deep, shuddering breaths, the tremble in her voice subsiding. She nods against his chest, her eyes still on the passing streetlights. "Okay," she whispers, the word barely audible over the hum of the engine. The city lights blur into a river of neon as the sedan glides through the night. She feels the warmth of his body against hers, the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her cheek. Despite the fear, she can't help but be comforted by his presence, the familiar scent of his cologne, and the strength in his arms. Her thoughts are a tangled mess of doubt and love, but she knows she needs to face this storm with him.

Just as the tension in the car starts to ebb, the world around them explodes into chaos. A truck, seemingly from nowhere, barrels into the intersection, smashing into the sedan with the sickening crunch of metal on metal. The car spins out of control, the force of the impact throwing Amelia and Kook against the windows, the shattering glass showering them with a million glittering shards. The world spins in a dizzying dance of broken glass and twisted steel. Amelia's mind is a whirlwind of panic, her thoughts racing as the car careens through the night. She feels Kook's hand tighten around her arm, pulling her closer to him, as if trying to shield her from the chaos that's engulfing them.

The sedan's tires screech, the smell of burning rubber fills the air, and the car flips over. Amelia's stomach lurches, and she screams, her eyes squeezed shut against the horror of the situation. She feels weightless, then a crushing force as the car slams into the asphalt. Her body is thrown around like a ragdoll, her mind trying to make sense of the chaos. Each rotation feels like an eternity, the car's metal frame groaning in protest. Kook's arms are around her, his grip a lifeline in the madness. The world outside the shattered windows is a blur of lights and darkness, the sounds of the impact deafening. Time stretches and snaps back into place, the car coming to an abrupt stop on its side. The silence that follows is almost as terrifying as the dissonance that preceded it. The air is thick with the smell of gasoline and fear.