Once the rain began, it didn't seem as though it was ever going to stop. Each tiny droplet seemed to be heavier than the last. The dark rolling clouds loomed closer by the second, a flash of light followed by a deep rumble.

We began to run, tiny specks making it near impossible to see, covering my eyes as I scrambled over the wet footpath. Then, I slipped, my shoe skidding against a wet puddle of water. I stumbled to stay upright, feeling my body begin its descent towards the ground. However, just as I lost my balance, Scott grabbed my wrist, stopping me from falling

We continued to run, the pauses between the flashes and rumbles growing tighter. It was getting closer. As we rounded a corner, we finally reached the carpark, dashing acrods it.

When I was little, my Dad had taught me how to know where lightning is. He said that when you hear thunder, count how long until you see a flash of lightning. However many seconds you have, divide it by three. Then that's how many kilometers away the lightning had striked.

It seemed to be getting closer now, as the seconds between them seemed to grow smaller. By the time we managed to reach the building, we swung open the door, before closing it quickly behind us.

Although it had only been just around the corner, we were already soaking wet by the time we managed to get inside. There was hardly a second to count between the booms and flashes, however now that rumble seemed so much louder.

Looking around, I felt a deep dread run through me as I noticed Noah's absence. Evan was there however, scrambling through papers as he desperately grabbed at some on the desk.

My hair was dripping, my clothes soaked and my whole body shaking. I could hardly feel my hands, and every part of me was numb. As I looked around, I began to worry even more of Noah's absence.

"You smell like a pair of wet dogs," Evan grunted, a loud booming sound rumbled the building causing a shiver to run down my spine. My teeth had begun to chatter, the rain growing so loud I could hardly hear myself think.

"Where's Noah?" I asked as I took off my dripping jacket, hanging it over a chair, before bringing my arms around to hold myself. I was freezing, but wearing a wet jacket would only make it worse. I would have to let it dry or else I would only end up giving myself a cold. Evan looked up at us just as Scott began to do the same.

"On a break, I thought- whoa, you good kid?" Evan paused, his eyes focusing on Scott. When I looked to him, I couldn't help but take a step back. He had taken his jacket off just as I had, but seeing him, my heart dropped.

Dashes of blue were cast across his arms, as if someone had taken a small drop of ink and it spread across his skin. Watercolor paints merging and swirling on a canvas, the pigment mixing from red and blue to a purple. Between it, shades of green and black seemed to form what almost appeared to be a galaxy across his skin. His wrists were a deep dark purple which matched his knuckles. His tired eyes looked to me for a moment, and all I could feel was a deep emptiness.

I had known he was hurt, but not to this extent. Not to the extent where removing his jacket caused Evan to question him. Not to the extent where he had more bruises than Lillian did freckles. Not to the extent where simply looking at him, you wondered how he was still standing.

"I tripped," the way he said it, with such bleak emptiness, it made my heart hurt even more. Evan seemed to pause, knowing entirely well that tripping couldn't cause this. Couldn't cause those dark marks around his wrists, couldn't cause the amount of damage that Scott seemed to face.

But what was he supposed to do?

"Right..." Evan said quietly, before looking to me. The way he looked at me, I knew that he knew. He knew that it wasn't just something, but someone who had done this to him. It was no wonder he never showed his arms, and I found myself fearing what else wasn't being seen.

Because if this was what his arms looked like, then what else was he hiding? How much had Jessie hurt him?

There was a bright flash which filtered through the windows, before it disappeared again. No more than a second later, there was a ear-splitting crash. I couldn't help but jump at the noise. The overhead lights flickered for a moment, before they went out.

Then, one by one, the computers followed. Each glowing screen shutting off as if a series of dominoes falling. Then, a few seconds later, the room was cast into complete darkness. A low hum of machines suddenly cut, and I was surprised at how quiet it was in here.

Evan waited for a moment as if expecting something to happen, and when it didn't, he began to swear. There was another crash, another flash of lightning and the whole building seemed to shake.

"Why aren't the fucking backup generators firing?" Evan swore, kicking a seat across the room, the wheels struggling to keep up with the momentum before it toppled over, crashing against the wall. Angrily, he took out his phone, "I'll be back. I gotta call someone,"

Evan went over to a side door, which I had just assumed was a storage space. As Evan opened it however, I saw a glimpse of a large machine. But not a moment later, the door slammed, and following it was another crash of lighting. All that remained was a the loud hammering of rain and the sound of bleak silence.

"I wish I could do something..." I couldn't help myself from saying it, and turning to Scott, he held his arms around himself awkwardly as if he was trying to hide them. It was heartbreaking, "You don't... deserve this..."

"I'm fine..." he said quietly, avoiding my eyes. But he wasn't fine, he didn't look fine. Nothing about this situation was fine. I felt so angry, so upset. As I took a step closer, I tried to hold back tears. How could he possibly fine?

"How can she just... do this to you?" my voice was a near whisper, and the closer I got to him, the more bruises I seemed to find. The more I noticed how dark the ones around his neck were, how the bags under his eyes weren't just from sleep deprivation. He shifted his glasses, and I noticed the bruising across his nose, on his hands.

"It's fine... it's just skin pigmentation," he said, but his own words seemed to betray him. His own eyes searched me as if he wasn't fine, as if he was trying to tell me just how not fine he was. Through the doorway, I could hear Evan yelling profanities, followed by another crash of lightning. Scott sighed, "I'm not... I'm not weak,"

"Is this why you're hiding them from me?" I asked quietly, and slowly, he nodded. He seemed so lost, like a small boy who couldn't find his way home. All I wanted to do was hold him, but I feared if I did, I may break him, "Scott... you're not weak. You're strong. You're one of the strongest I know for holding it together like this,"

"It's just a lie though," he shook his head, his hands shaking, his eyes seeming to be swarmed with a deep sadness. He held his arms tighter around him, eyes locked onto me, "I just pretend that I'm fine when I'm not. It's why- if I disappeared- it would all be better. You'd be happy, Jessica would be happy, Jake would be happy... and I wouldn't have to feel so tired anymore..."

"You promised," I pleaded, taking his hands in mine, holding them so delicately because I was afraid he might crumble. Shatter into a thousand pieces, and I didn't know if I would be able to put him back together. I took a shaky breath, "Everyone is just pretending to be okay... it's just a big act for everyone. The world is a fucking mess. A huge mess, that just seems to get messier every time I speak. But... however messy that world gets, it just feels better with you... and if you- I... I don't know what I'd do..."

"But..." he nodded, gripping my hands tightly. His hands were so cold, so bruised and hurt. He paused for a moment, and when he spoke, I didn't know how he managed to keep himself together, "I just... nobody ever listened to me like you do. I just thought that if I kept to myself perhaps... I could just get by. But it's so- so tiring... and, even if it takes me a lot, when I'm around you... I don't have to pretend. And that makes me feel so... I don't know the word,"

"Yeah," I knew what he meant, even without him articulating the particular word. I knew exactly what feeling he meant even if I couldn't find a word for it.

I watched as a tear rolled down his face, slowly trailing down his cheek. Gently and carefully, I brought my hand up, wiping it away. I went to move my hand away, but before I did, Scott held it there. Tracing my hand delicately with his own.

"Thank you," he said quietly, a small bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "Thank you for everything..."