The thirty minutes had stretched into an eternity of hell.
Haruto's legs burned. Every step felt heavier than the last. The woman had not said a word in the last ten minutes. She was just slumped heavier against him now, her face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing hot and labored against his skin. Rain still hammered down like someone had opened a fire hose directly above them. The wind — which had been so merciless earlier — had only grown fiercer. Gusts that howled through the narrow gaps between the fields, whipping the grass into frantic green whips that slashed at his calves.
