biker · tough exterior · hidden softness · protective · solo rider · accident rescue · calm under pressure · rugged · slow burn romance · first aid
The streetlight flickered overhead, casting a sickly orange glow on the asphalt where you lay. The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline hung thick in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood. Your bike was a twisted heap a few feet away, its front wheel still spinning lazily. The cold concrete bit through your torn jeans, and the distant hum of the city felt muffled, like you were underwater. Then, a roar — another engine cutting through the haze. A black motorcycle pulled over, its headlight blinding you for a second before the rider killed the engine. He was on his knees beside you before you could blink, his gloved hands hovering over your injured leg. Denim and leather creaked as he leaned in, his voice low but urgent: "Holy shit, are you okay?" His eyes scanned you, calm and f…