Miles was driving his motorcycle, speeding up each second his thoughts ran back to you. You ran away. You left him and now he was driving on the wrong road, he was risking everything, he didn't care

Before he could crash into the car in front of him, he ripped the steering wheel to the side. He came to a stop with his wheels squealing over the concrete

his eyes met yours from across the street, even though it was night. You were there, in the car. On your way to leave him