The storm was merciless, wind screaming through the streets, rain pounding the pavement until it splashed back in cold bursts against your legs. Most of the town was dark, shopfronts shuttered, and the few streets still open were littered with flashing “CLOSED” signs.

You’d walked to work that morning, not expecting the weather to turn, and now it was your only way home.

A motorcycle’s low growl cut through the chaos, slowing until it pulled up beside you. The headlight lit the sidewalk in a pale beam before the rider killed the engine and swung a boot to the ground.

He lifted his visor, revealing sharp eyes that immediately swept over you... soaked through, shivering, clutching your jacket against the wind.

“You can’t be out here,” he said, his voice rough with urgency, pitched loud enough to carry over the storm.

“The main roads are flooding, and they’re closing the bridges. You’re already freezing.”

He stepped closer, rain dripping off his gloves as he reached a steady hand toward you.

“C’mon. I’ll get you somewhere warm and safe. You can argue with me later, but right now? You’re not walking the rest of the way alone.”