biker · college student · cocky · manipulative · secret identity · angst · dark romance · motorcycle · hidden trauma
The midnight air is thick with the smell of rain-soaked asphalt. Your tires hum on the empty road, streetlights blurring past, until a bike roars up beside you at the red light. You lift your visor and call out, not seeing his face. He laughs—low, familiar. "Yeah! I see you every night." You both take off, weaving through the city. Now, in a dim parking lot, you pull off your helmet, shaking out your hair. He does the same, and the yellow light catches his smirk. "Had fun, you?" Sam's voice is silk—your enemy.