The horribly familiar blinding flash of lightning illuminates the sky with a resounding crack.

You freeze.

There’s a storm happening right now and you’re stuck outside in it.

You can’t move.

It’s probably counteractive to just come to a stop outside but you’re immobile, fear coursing through your veins.

Your legs are shaking.

It’s all the more terrifying witnessing a storm up close and personal.

You’ve grown numb.

Despite the thin walls of your campus apartment the booms and cracks of the storm are much louder than you’d expect. Although it could just do with the fact that you can’t hear anything else other than those bone shaking noises.

You don’t remember falling onto the ground.

If you thought the rain and wind was bad in your dorm getting attacked by it while enduring the sounds of this storm is utter torture.

You think you hear someone calling your name.

Why are you such an idiot? Why couldn’t you have met at your apartment? Or not gotten a present at all?

Something grabs your shoulders as your name grows louder.

Is that even your name? It sounds strange and muddled, like someone was trying to call your name through water.

You’re not sure how you managed it but you’re standing up again.

You wish you were home. Not just back in your tiny apartment but home. Where your family is in the house you grew up in.

Now something is holding your face a blurred indiscernible shape before you as your name only seems to grow louder.

You want to go back to the little neighborhood you spent your childhood in. No storms to ruin your peaceful life style.

Is there someone with you? It looks like someone’s face in yours.

Going home would be nice. You should make plans to do that soon.

They look familiar. Why can’t you remember them?

When you visit you should make a point of stopping by your friends’ houses too. At least say hello to their parents even if your friends aren’t home.

Who is this? It’s starting to scare you that you can barely remember who they are, let alone their name.

The first stop would be next door.

They’re starting to get clearer.

To visit your best friend’s house.

Their yelling now, breaking through the curtain of uncertainty muffling them before.

The Kims’ house.

You eyes focus on the face in front of you.

***

“Chen…” you murmur barely audible even to yourself. Everything’s a little fuzzy and it takes you a moment to realize where you are. You must have blanked out earlier.

“I’m right here, just look at me. You’re fine.” he instructs looking relieved you finally responded.

“Chen...”

“You’re alright. Nothing’s going to hurt you. The storm isn’t going to hurt you.”

“Chen…” your voice, though louder, trembles fiercely.

“You’re still okay. Can you walk? There’s buildings nearby we can-”

Crack. Boom. Crack. Crack.                                                                       

With a pathetic whimper you cling to him, wadding your fists in the wet material of his sweatshirt. Without a moment’s hesitation he wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

"It's alright, I've got you. You'll be perfectly safe with me." he says managing to be heard over the screaming wind.

And you believe him.

Not because you trust him or know that the storm can't actually physically hurt you.

You believe him because you want it to be true.

You want to feel this way in every situation not just during storms when you're cowering at every lightning strike or thunderclap.

No.

You want to be safe in his arms from everything.

Safe from fear.

Safe from confusion.

Safe from the world.

Just you and him in a moment like this forever.

Well, maybe not this particular moment.

As you shake and bury your head into his sopping sweatshirt you try to focus on him rather than the storm. Chen's here with you right now. He's here holding you in his arms oblivious to the rampant thoughts in your head that never want him to let go. He's here protecting you from the irrational fear this storm plagues on you.

He's here.

"Hey," he nudges you gently, you give a stiff nod without looking up to signal you're listening, "if you can make it there's a warm little bakery down the block we can wait out in. It’s not too far I promise but, if you don’t think you can that’s alright. I just don’t want you to get a cold or stay stuck out here like this.”

That bakery actually sounds really inviting.

With another stiff nod you allow him to gingerly lead you to the specified bakery. Tentative step by step and encouraging word by word you slowly make your way through the rampaging storm.

Crack.

“Don’t listen to it, you’re fine.”

Boom.

“Just listen to the sound of my voice, you’ll be fine.”

Crack. Crack.

“We’re almost there, just a few more steps.”

Boom. Crack. Boom.

Snap.

The new sound plants your feet to the ground.

Something just broke around you.

A little ways away you hear the undeniable collapse of an unlucky branch or flimsy tree unable to withstand the stress of the wind.

Something just broke because of the storm.

Near where you stand right now.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You can’t even see what fell. It’s way down the street. Nothing by us, we’re still alright. We’re almost there.” Chen assures, keeping a firm comforting grip around your shoulders.

You know he’s telling the truth and you want to let him take you the rest of the way to the bookstore.

But your body decides otherwise.

Standing like a petrified statue you feel Chen give you an urging pull to continue walking. When you don’t—actually can’t—he takes the vacant place in front of you and holds your shoulders gently.

“Hey, do you remember when we were kids and we used to climb the trees in front of our houses?”

Despite your frightened state the memory does click and you manage a slight nod.

“Do you remember how you used to get scared at the top and got stuck?”

Another small nod.

“Do you remember what I told you to do?”

You told me to jump.

But only you can only muster a nod.

“Remember how scared you were and how you said you’d just stay in the tree?”

I do, we were too stubborn to call our parents for help.

You nod.

“Do you remember what I promised you?”

You said you’d catch me.

“I said I’d catch you and make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. I promised you’d be safe.”

He gives you a long searching look with his familiar dark chestnut eyes. Although, you feel there’s something unfamiliar about them. Physically they look the same but the way he’s looking at you is unfamiliar. It’s like he’s trying to see into your vey being just through your eyes. An unnamed emotion makes them appear like that of a stranger’s. As if you’re really looking at them for the first time with meaning.

And you’re trying to deny why.