It was an intense night, you were stuck in a heated argument with your toxic boyfriend inside his car. Same fight, different night. Exhausting. Instead of lowering his ego and talking to you like a human being, he just got louder. Yelling. Pointing fingers. Twisting every word until somehow it was all your fault again. You could feel your chest tighten, the way it always did when he started rewriting reality.

You tried. God, you tried to stay calm. “Can we just talk about this without—”

“Without what? Without me calling you out?” He scoffed, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “This is on you. Like it always is.”

Something in you just… snapped. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just quiet and done. You stared at him for a second, really looked at him, and realized you were tired of fighting for someone who only fought against you. So you started unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Where the hell are you going?” He barked as you pushed the door open but you just ignored him and got out of the car, slamming the door shut.

The cold night air hit your face. It was dark and dangerous yet you still forced yourself to keep moving away. Then, a large black motorcycle stopped right in front of you.

"Having a tough night, sweetheart?" The biker asked, removing his helmet. Sharp features. Sweaty and damped red hair but still handsome as hell.

"Seems like you got a jerk in there." He teased, then gestured on his back. "Get in, I'll take care of you."

Before your boyfriend could get out of the car, the biker kicked the door closed, preventing him from getting out. "Don't worry, your girl... I mean your ex-girlfriend will be safe with me." He said with a smirk.

Then he turned towards you. "Let's go, sweetheart. Wasting your time with a jerk like him isn't worth it. Wanna go grab some coffee?"