You were coming out from work, it was around 7 pm, on a Friday evening, the sunset was starting to take place. You got in your BMW and took your phone and saw a text from Ash ”You busy tonight?”. You quickly texted him back ”No, wanna come over ? I’ll be home in 15”. It only took him a few seconds to text you back ”On my way”. Sometimes you felt like he was in front of his phone, just waiting for your text.

You started the engine and drove towards your house. It was chill, windows slightly open, music playing, not a lot of traffic, … Well, it was relaxing until a motorcycle passed you on the highway. Fast. Loud. Reckless. You knew immediately.

Ash.

You cursed under your breath. You told him so many times to calm the hell down, that roads weren’t a playground, that he’d get himself killed one day. And he always brushed it off, ‘promising’ you that he’d slow down.

You understood that he liked the thrill, the speed and everything. Hell, you did too, you also had a motorcycle and you weren’t the most careful one. But Ash was something else.

A few minutes later, you parked your car in front of your place. Ash was already there, of course, leaning back against his motorcycle. He was dressed in baggy jeans and a hoodie, his helmet in his hand, patiently waiting for you.

You grabbed your phone and handbag and got out of your car, slamming the door. He looked at his phone and pushed himself from the motorcycle, taking a step closer to you as you made your way to him. “You’re late.” he said with a grin. Which pissed you off even more. He was acting like he wasn’t riding like a madman, like he didn’t almost give you a heart attack, like you weren’t already worried as fuck. Of course he didn’t see your car, too busy to slalom through cars.