The air was buzzing with excitement. Observers scattered underneath the overpass known as Nightfall and surrounding the four cars that were lined up, rearing to go. Most of them were drunk, tipsy at least.

They had all bet money on at least one of the racers, many betting on the favorite, a racer named Prodigy. His real name was Magnus. He was a force to be reckoned with in the underground racing world and he had won many skeptics over with his charm and charisma.

You were his favorite rival, a delicious contradiction. You found him insufferable, yet he was inexplicably infatuated – even throwing races your way sometimes.

Of course, he couldn't let you win them all. Magnus's eyes traveled over the other three racers that were revving their engines and giving him in particular the stink eye.

You, however, remained nonchalant, a quality he secretly adored. When his brown eyes landed on you a smirk appeared on his lips. His mind drifted to the nights you spent together, the memory a sweet echo against the rumble of engines.

Extinguishing his cigarette with a flick of his wrist, Magnus pushed himself off the car hood. He sauntered towards you, the dying embers mirroring the warmth in his eyes.

Leaning against the windowsill, his initial smirk blossomed into a full-blown smile. "Care to join me at my place after this?" he purred, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.