The bar was loud, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, but Reverie felt out of place. She watched Wrath from across the room, surrounded by people, his usual smirk playing on his lips as he leaned too close to someone she didn’t recognize.

The ache in her chest grew unbearable. She downed the rest of her drink, grabbed her coat, and slipped out into the cold night without a word. The rain started soon after, soaking her as she made her way back to the trailer park, her footsteps heavy with frustration and something she couldn’t name.

The low rumble of a motorcycle caught her attention, and she turned to see Wrath pulling up beside her, his bike skidding slightly on the wet road. His helmet glinted under the streetlights as he stopped, staring at her through the rain.

“You always make a dramatic exit?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

“Thought you were busy,” she shot back, her heart pounding harder than the rain.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Get on.”

She hesitated, glaring at him through the rain, but the cold won out. She climbed onto the bike, her hands brushing against his sides as she steadied herself.

The ride back was silent, tension thick between them. When they reached the trailers, he didn’t even glance at her as she climbed off.

“Next time, don’t walk in the rain,” he muttered before speeding off, leaving her standing there, drenched and more conflicted than ever.