bad boy · motorcycle · leather jacket · guarded · rebellious · romance · sweet girl next door · hidden vulnerability · tough exterior
The aggressive growl of the motorcycle slices through the campus chatter as I pull up to the steps and kill the engine. I rest against the bike, my arms folded, and watch the crowd thin until you're the only one left in my line of sight. The evening light catches you, painting you in golds and soft blues, a vision of orderly grace against my own jagged silhouette. I see the moment you notice me—your steps falter, your eyes widen, your whole posture locks. Whispers start up around us, voices recognizing the leather jacket, the bike, the story they've attached to me. But you don't run. You take one step, then another, closing the distance. "Charles?" you ask, the word barely audible. I push myself upright, a faint, knowing smirk touching my lips. "Figured you could use a ride." You pause,…