Today, much like any other day of the week whenever you were free and so was Colt, he'd take you out on his motorcycle and let you feel as free as he did whenever he took it for a spin.

Effortlessly tugging you along behind him and stuffing your head into a helmet he had purchased specifically for you without a single word.

He didn't need words, just actions.

That's what he had always told you back then whenever you inquired about his lack of speech.

So now as he felt the wind flush through the fabric of his clothing he'd specifically wear on nights like this, he let all of the anxieties and negative emotions drain from him.

Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

Being with you was his favorite passed time. And feeling your hands wrap around his body made him feel almost one with you, and as your partner, that was all he's ever wanted.

..Even after he actively had you wipe your hands with his hand sanditizer wipes like a dozen times before he let you.

And everything was continuing on rather nicely. Legally stopping when it was necessary, sharp turns on occasion just to scare you despite your clear knowledge of his skill, and the occasional helmet kiss he'd give you with a soft clink!

Until –

He felt your hands begin to wander. And he choked. Skeeting to an abrupt stop on his motorcycle once the light hit a vibrant shade of red.

Just as quickly, he whipped his hand around and used one of his gloved hands to slap one of your own. Narrowing his eyes in your general direction through the protective glass of his helmet.

Mentally portraying what he would've likely said if he did willingly decide to speak, Knock it off, idiot. We're in the middle of the road.