self-destructive empathy ; setosolace

9

It's raining pretty hard now, as Adam and I predicted. The trees are swaying harshly back and fourth while the wind howls with fury. The others don't seem to mind, though, as they're gathered on the floor playing Uno within the candlelight. The power went out a couple minutes ago, presumably due to the storm knocking down some power lines.

"Seto isn't here yet," I hear Jason's low voice remind the group every two or so minutes. "I think something happened to him."

"Maybe he's staying at the café until the rain dies out," Tyler, whose soaking wet and sitting on top of a towel, reasons. "Maybe we can drop him a call?"

"I don't have his number, he got a new phone but hasn't bothered to tell anyone about his new number," Adam groans, over exaggerating his eye roll. "All I have is his landline."

I perk up slightly and take out my phone from my pocket. I shuffle through my contacts, finding the brunet's name followed by a spam of purple emojis. Without the others' acknowledgement, I send him a concerned text.

Hey, you alright?

I'm about to put my phone away when it buzzes. I freeze for a moment, feeling my heart beat out of my chest. Someday, my heart is going to stop and I'll die young. It's like it can't beat by itself—I'm always feeling so nervous. I didn't expect Seto to reply so quickly, so I take a look at his message.

I'm stuck at the café parking lot in my car, waiting out the rain. I'm scared, like really scared

The last part of his message stuck to me. Why would he be scared? It's just a little rain. I head up towards the nearby window, pushing the indigo curtains to the side to get a good look at the weather. I see flashes of white, followed by loud thunder, over the horizon. It's like the sky is angry.

The wind continues to howl and the panes of glass shake a bit.

I'm coming
Send me the address

Without a word, I grab my jacket that's been laying on the couch. Ty looks at me, a blank expression on his face before it transformed into bewilderment. I head towards the kitchen, opening the front door and gazed out. The rain is getting stronger, there's no doubt about that, so I had to be quick.

"Where are you going?" Ty grabs my shoulder, pulling me back. "Come on, dude, just wait out the storm."

"I need to go," I enunciate without stuttering. Pushing his hand aside, I head outside and bolt towards my car. There's a branch sitting on the windshield—the glass luckily isn't cracked. I brush it aside and sit in the driver's seat.

You don't need to come
432 Baker's Street

The wind is roaring now as I start my car engine.

I know I don't need to
It's because I want to

There's a crack of thunder over the horizons, sending chills down my spine as the flash of white fills the darkened sky. I hastily begin to drive, having already entered the address into the map system on my phone. Maybe a bit too fast for a storm as I feel my grip on the steering wheel beginning to lose overall control—the actual wheels have no traction against the road as it slides like a skater on ice.

Up ahead, I manage to spot a red light. I'm usually a law abiding citizen, but today, what's the trouble of running it? I hit the gas, speeding past it, figuring that no idiot would be driving in such a storm. It's a bit too fast, as my car begins to spin against the sleek pavement. Everything happens too fast and I can't play dumb this time.

It's heading down the road and hitting the brakes doesn't do anything. I'm spinning, like one of those teacup rides at a carnival I use to go to as a child. There is no friction between the tires and road, so at this point I'm praying for some divine intervention. I was never really religious—couldn't give two shits about what went on when I went to church with my parents—but I guess a good prayer would help.