The steady rhythm of the rain against the windshield was almost hypnotic, a gentle percussion that accompanied the hum of the car’s engine. The sky, once clear, had darkened with heavy storm clouds, turning the late afternoon into an early twilight. Droplets streaked down the windows in lazy trails, blurring the vast expanse of pine trees and rolling hills that stretched along the horizon.
Caelan gripped the steering wheel with one hand, the other resting on the gearshift, fingers lightly brushing against Elise’s. She sat beside him, her legs curled up beneath her, her chin propped on her hand as she gazed out at the rain-slicked scenery. Her hair was loose and slightly damp from their earlier stop at a roadside café, and she smelled faintly of lavender and rain.
She turned her head slightly, catching him staring at her. Her lips curved into a teasing smile.
“Eyes on the road, Sinclair,” she murmured playfully.
Caelan’s lips twitched into a lopsided grin. “Hard to focus when the view in the passenger seat is so much better.”
Elise rolled her eyes, but the soft pink flush coloring her cheeks betrayed her. She playfully nudged his arm. “Flatterer.”
He chuckled, glancing back at the road. The rain was coming down heavier now, a steady curtain that blurred the edges of the winding country road. The wipers struggled to keep the windshield clear, and the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the distant hills.
Despite the worsening weather, they were both content. The road trip had been Caelan’s idea—a spontaneous escape from the city, from work, and from everything else. Just the two of them, no meetings, no deadlines, no supernatural complications.
They had spent the morning driving through small towns, stopping at quaint diners and antique shops. They bought random trinkets—a vintage compass Elise insisted they needed, and an old leather-bound journal Caelan had picked up, claiming he’d use it to write her poems (earning an eye-roll from her but also a secret smile). It had been one of those perfect, ordinary days that neither of them wanted to end.
Elise let out a contented sigh, tilting her head back against the seat. “I wish we could just keep driving forever,” she murmured softly. “No destination, no schedule. Just this.”
Caelan glanced at her, and his chest tightened. The way she was looking at him—soft, vulnerable, completely at ease—made his breath catch. He reached over, his fingers brushing over hers, tangling them together.
“Me too,” he whispered, his voice low and raw with sincerity.
For a moment, everything felt perfect.
But then, the road began to slick beneath the onslaught of rain, and the tires slipped ever so slightly as they rounded a sharp curve. Caelan’s eyes narrowed, and he instinctively slowed down, his grip on the wheel tightening.
“Road’s getting slippery,” he muttered, his eyes scanning ahead.
Elise glanced at him, sensing the slight edge in his voice. “Maybe we should pull over until it lets up?”
He nodded faintly. “Yeah. Let me just—”
Suddenly, the car jolted violently. The tires screeched against the rain-soaked asphalt as Caelan’s foot instinctively slammed on the brake. But nothing happened. The car kept skidding.
“Elise!” Caelan’s voice was sharp, laced with sudden alarm.
Her eyes widened as she felt the vehicle swerve, sliding sideways along the narrow road. The world outside blurred into a smear of gray and green.
“Caelan, what—?” she started to ask, but her voice was cut off by the sharp, panicked edge in his.
“The brakes!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. “They’re not working!”
Her breath caught. The rain pounded louder against the windshield, the wipers smearing useless streaks across the glass. Her hands clutched the door handle instinctively, her knuckles white.
Caelan’s mind raced. He slammed the brake pedal again, but the car only sped up slightly as they hit a downward slope. His heart was pounding in his chest. He yanked the wheel sharply, trying to steer them away from the steep drop-off on the right side of the road.
“Elise, hold on!” he shouted, his voice raw with desperation.
The car veered violently. The rain blurred everything into a kaleidoscope of chaos. Elise’s hand shot out, gripping his arm, her nails biting into his skin.
And then—
CRASH.
The car slammed into something solid. A sickening crunch of metal filled the air as the vehicle careened off the road and collided headfirst into the massive trunk of an ancient oak tree.
Caelan’s head snapped forward, smashing into the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. His vision burst into a brilliant flash of white, and for a split second, the world seemed to slow. The force of the impact jolted him violently, sending a sharp, searing pain through his skull.
For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. His entire body went numb.
And then—
“Elise.”
The name tore from his throat as he turned toward her.
Her head was slumped against the window, her body limp, her eyes closed. Blood streaked down her temple, mingling with the rain smearing the cracked glass.
“Elise!” Caelan’s voice broke with raw panic. He reached for her, but his hands felt heavy, trembling. His vision swam, unfocused. The dull pounding in his head became a sharp, blinding pain.
“No, no, no,” he muttered frantically, his voice cracking. His fingers pressed against her cheek, trying to rouse her. “Elise, wake up. Please.”
She didn’t move.
The excruciating pain behind his eyes intensified, and he sucked in a sharp breath. His head was pounding relentlessly, and when he pulled his hand back from her face, he noticed the faint smear of blood on his fingers. His blood.
His vision blurred. The edges of his sight darkened, closing in like a narrowing tunnel.
“Stay with me,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper now. “Elise…”
But his limbs grew heavy, and his strength slipped away.
And then, everything went black.
Caelan wasn’t sure how long the darkness lasted. It felt like floating through nothingness—detached from everything. Time was meaningless. There was only the aching, hollow absence of awareness.
But then, slowly, he became aware of the faintest sensations—distant and fleeting.
The sharp scent of rain. The faint warmth of blood trickling down his temple. The wetness of the grass beneath him.
And then, he heard it—the faint, broken sound of her voice.
“Caelan…?”
It was barely a whisper, fragile and weak. But it cut through the darkness like a beacon.
With a sharp inhale, his eyes flickered open, and the world came rushing back with violent intensity.
The pain hit him first—a searing, splintering ache in his head, and a stabbing sensation along his ribs. His vision was blurry, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
But then he saw her.
Elise.
She was barely conscious, her eyes half-lidded, her breath shallow. She was lying against the crumpled passenger side door, her head tilted toward him, her face pale and bloodied.
Relief and terror clashed violently in his chest. She was alive. Barely.
“Elise,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and broken.
He tried to move, but the pain in his side was paralyzing. He gritted his teeth, ignoring it, and reached out, his trembling fingers brushing against her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered weakly. She let out a faint, broken sigh, barely able to keep them open.
“Caelan…” she breathed, her voice a fragile thread.
“I’m here,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “I’m right here. Stay with me, okay? Just—just hold on.”
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Her eyelids drooped, and her head tilted slightly to the side.
“No, no, no!” Caelan’s voice cracked, raw and desperate. He cupped her face in his hands, ignoring the searing pain in his ribs. His hands were slick with rain and blood, but he didn’t care.
“Stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “You can’t leave me. Not now.”
Her breath hitched faintly, but her eyes remained closed.
And then, a faint glimmer of red and blue flashed against the rain-soaked road. Distant sirens wailed through the storm.
Caelan’s grip tightened on her hand, his fingers trembling.
“Help is coming,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Just hold on, Elise. Please. Hold on…”
And as the flashing lights drew closer, he clung to her—his hand never leaving hers—praying to every god he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t lose her.