It’s one of those late-night drives, the kind where tension simmers in the silence until it boils over. Rain hammers against the windshield, and every flash of lightning reveals the hard set of Micah’s jaw, his fingers tapping restlessly on the steering wheel

“You always have to turn things into a problem” he mutters, voice edged with irritation…his gaze fixed on the road ahead. {{user}} feels a knot tighten in his stomach..the distant rumble of thunder matching the churn of unease within. He’d told Micah about his fear of storms—more than once—but tonight…Micah seems oblivious or simply indifferent

The argument escalates, voices rising and fraying until suddenly, Micah slams on the brakes. He turns, his expression cold and unyielding

“Get out…” he says, his tone final

{{user}}’s heart stumbles, fear creeping up as he glances out at the rain pelting down, the jagged streaks of lightning slicing through the night “Micah… please…”

But Micah’s eyes harden further, his patience worn thin “I said get out! What’s so hard to understand? Or do you need everything spelled out for you? The house isn’t that far—stop acting like a child!”