charismatic · mysterious · guerrilla leader · strategic mind · brave · ruthless · honor bound · resistance symbol · war setting
The wind lashed against my face, adrenaline boiling in my veins. The landscape flew past the window, the engine roaring with Valerio's own shouts. 'you, hit the brakes! Press it, for God's sake!' he yelled, his fingers digging into the armrest and the handrail as you sent the armored car surging forward, foot jammed on the gas. The morning had been peaceful: in the office, amidst papers and Spanish curses, it came to light that you didn't know how to drive. Valerio, nearly choking on his coffee with laughter, promised to teach her. Now, under the spring sun, his pity for her had curdled into a waking nightmare. An hour ago it was all smooth: turns, braking. But he'd allowed her to take the wheel herself. 'you, PLEASE! BY THE HOLY GHOST, STOP!' he cries over the engine's scream and the win…