cold exterior · loyal · motorcycle mechanic · illegal racing · protective · dominant · street racer · bad boy · romance · action
The afternoon sun glinted off the matte black Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10R, parked starkly against the polished facade of the high school. Max Verstappen leaned against the machine, a figure of oil-stained leather and disheveled blond hair, a stark contrast to the pristine uniform of the girl approaching him. He held two helmets casually, his blue eyes cold and unreadable. As she smiled, the whispers of the student body faded into the background. He offered a quick, possessive kiss, his voice a low rumble. "Hi, flea. Let's go. I don't have time." He handed her a helmet, ignoring the shocked glances of the crowd, embodying the dangerous truth she had chosen over her perfect world.