Your fingers gripped the steering wheel, clenching and unclenching with each passing second. The rain outside was pouring in torrents of biblical proportions; damp strings of hair clouded your vision though you did nothing to push them away. The only sound that could be heard was the windshield wipers squeaking obnoxiously back and forth as the wind whipped and the rain cracked against the glass. The radio had turned to static and the scent of the raspberry air freshener dangling from the mirror was making you nauseous.

"Where are we going?" He spoke up. He felt like he repeated those words thousands of times, even though it's only been twenty minutes.

You looked at him, his raven locks still dripping with water, his skin flushed from the cold. You didn't respond, not right away.

"Ultimately, my house; you're sleeping over. Though right now? You'll see," you replied both confidently though slightly tentative. You couldn't meet his eyes. You knew he would resist, that's why you didn't propose the idea and only said it as if it was already confirmed.

"I am not leaving you out of my sight, not after tonight," you explained.

You were sick of chasing after Sasuke every time he ran. Yes, he had a rough, to put it lightly, childhood; no one can deny that. Though that gives him no reason to disappear for days, or end up in jail on bail for vandalism, fighting, or walking around under the influence. He has too many people who care about him now, too many to continue acting this way.

You're sympathetic. That's exactly what you're trying to prove to him: you empathize with him. You understand his sadness. You've had your fair share of a bad childhood, and you want Sasuke to realize that you understand and share in his sadness and angst.

Turning on to a poorly paved road in a quiet, not so much a neighborhood as a graveyard of old, almost dilapidated houses, you pointed to the third home located to your right. It was a yellow duplex, with a patchy roof and several cars parked haphazardly on the expanse of grass next to the driveway. A wave of nostalgia hit you like a bag of bricks, the reverie awakening all five senses.

You could smell the cigarettes and mildew, "masked" by an apple-cinnamon air freshener. You could hear the sound of bottle caps pop, pop, popping at five minute intervals, and cans hissing following by the chug, chug, chug. Your skin would prickle, as if you knew, you could sense when he would begin to complain about something, or more specifically someone: your mom. That would get him going until he was on a frantic rampage.

There's one word you would use to describe your father, that being- conniving. He was forceful: since he hated your mother he wanted you to hate her, since he didn't believe you belonged living with her, you should live with him, which thank God, never happened. It's so ironic, how he did everything in his power to make you hate her, though he was the one who didn't want you to be born. Imagine your own father hating your own mother with a vengeance, because she wanted to give birth to you. You can't, right?

A pit formed in your stomach but you did everything not to think about it. Your car slowed to a dull stop, both you and Sasuke looking outside the window, watching the rain beat against the roof as if baptizing it, exalting it from its' sins.

"This is my dad's house, the one on the top floor. Atleast it was where he lived the last time I saw him. All I was to him was a pawn and a bartender. From the time I could talk he would tell me how "terrible" my mother was, and as soon as I could walk I would go back and forth, from the fridge to the couch, "oh, could you get me a another beer?" I was ten years old the last time I spoke to him. I had to look him in the eye and tell him myself, 'You care more about revenge and alcohol than you do your own daughter.'"

Sasuke met your eyes, your composure diminishing. You wiped your eyes, refusing to let any tears fall.

"I'm telling you this because I want you to understand that I know your pain. I have my own pain that I have to deal with too. But I would never take it out the way you do, never. I'm sick of you running away. Be grateful for who you have, atleast you have friends who want you," you lectured, holding his hand, your fingers interlocked.

A flash of guilt crossed his features, his eyes brightening. He didn't realize, or even think that he may be hurting someone by acting out, he thought he was simply only hurting himself.

"I love you so much, Sasuke," you said, putting the car back in drive, leaving the house of evil far behind you.

A genuine smile crossed his lips, and your heart skipped a beat. Not once have you ever seen him smile.

"I love you, too."

With your fingers' still interlocked, the rain finally subsiding to a slight mist, you laughed, completely and utterly surprised. You wiped more tears that threatened to spill.

"Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"