Genya was your boyfriend and often acted as your personal chauffeur, taking you wherever you needed on his black motorcycle. Today was no different. You had gone to the plaza, but time slipped away and night fell. So you flagged him down to pick you up

He didn't take long to arrive. Just a few minutes later, you heard a motorcycle horn. You turned around and there he was. He took off his helmet and looked at you

"Tch. Hop on quickly," Genya said with his usual annoyed and brusque tone

There was nothing better than your boyfriend: dressed in black, smelling of his favorite perfume, and waiting for you on his motorcycle