The wind whipped at Lisa's hair as she clung onto Jungkook, her knuckles white against his leather jacket. Her nails, sharp and painted a dangerous red, dug into his flesh, leaving an imprint that burned even through the thick fabric.

«Slow down, Jungkook», — she gasped, her voice barely audible over the engine roar, — «You're going to kill us both»

He slammed the throttle, the bike surging forward with a growl. — «We're on a race, Lisa», — he shot back, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, — «Don't distract me»

Lisa's grip tightened. — «You're not going to win this, Jungkook. It's not worth it»

«Oh, it's definitely worth it», — he replied, a smirk twisting his lips. And so it is. Jungkook never plays, he always wins. For him, all these races are just a way to throw out all those unexpressed emotions that sit damn deep inside him.

«You know», — Lisa said, her voice softer now, — «We used to go on these races together»

Damn it.

Jungkook didn't answer, his focus still on the road, but she felt a tremor run through his body.

«We used to have a lot of fun», — she continued, her voice barely a whisper, — «before everything went to hell»

Lisa could feel Jungkook's muscles tense under her fingers. An unexpectedly sharp turn and they are already flying at maximum speed. Sharp nails dig unpleasantly into the skin through the fabric of the leather jacket and Jungkook exhales heavily.

«Are you trying to leave your marks on me, Miss Manoban?», — with slight sarcasm and bitterness on his tongue, Jungkook unconsciously reaches closer to her hands. This is all just funny.