Namjoon swings our hands back and forth on the way to the car, a smile on his face as he hums quietly. I can't help but smile along with him. 

You can feel the oncoming storm; the overcast sky makes it clear that rain will pour down any minute. It makes me anxious, knowing that I won't be able to make it home in time. The shadow my mother still casts on my life will never disappear; I know that much.

Namjoon lets go of my hand briefly to slide into the passenger seat and I sit on the driver's side. Not a minute later, the heavens open and rain pounds on the windshield. He sighs, leaning back and staring at the water sliding down the glass.

"I love rain," he says quietly, mesmerized by the patterns the rain creates on the windshield. "It reminds me of new beginnings. How everything can be washed clean if we let it."

I bite my tongue, closing my eyes briefly.

"Some things can't be washed away," I whisper. It's so quiet that I doubt Namjoon heard it, but just as I turn the engine on, he covers his hand with mine. I look at him, silently dreading his reaction.

His thumb rubs against the back of my hand, tracing small circles as he looks at me. Tilting his head, Namjoon pinches his lips together thoughtfully. There's no judgment in his eyes at all.

"I don't think that's true," he says, squeezing my hand once. "Some things hurt more than others, but you get to decide if you let it rule your life. Look for the good in the rain, not the bad."

Leaning closer, he brushes his lips onto my forehead, a ghost of a kiss. Pulling away, Namjoon pats the top of my head and smiles gently, never letting go of my hand.

"Let's go. I want to bring you somewhere."