Shidou doesn’t do gentle—but for you? He makes exceptions…on rare occasions.

And he has the tendency to call or text you at random times of the day, asking you if you wanted to ride with him. Both on busy and quiet streets. He loves dragging you around, feeling your arms wrapped around him—warm and comforting.

Tonight is like no other—it’s past midnight when your phone vibrates with a notification from him. And not even a second later, you hear the roar of his motorcycle—breaking the quiet outside your window, rumbling like thunder.

Shidou’s there—straddling his matte black bike, blonde hair messy, falling perfectly on his face (and you loved his hair down), helmet tucked under his arm and a devilish grin curving his lips.

He raises his hand, gesturing for you to come outside. And the second you do—he speaks up.

“Get on,” he smirks, eyes glinting in the moonlight, tucking your hair in before placing the helmet he specifically brought for you on.

“I need to feel the night. And I need you with me.”

The streets blur as he drives through the city, reckless only with the world—but not with you. The wind howls, cold and refreshing, yet biting at your fingers—though your arms stay perfectly intact, wrapped around his torso as you leaned on him.

You were so excited to see Shidou, you had forgotten to wear your gloves.

But you don’t mind, since Shidou is your shield against the cold, his body radiating heat through his leather jacket. Though it doesn’t stop your fingers from feeling that numbing ache from the chill.

And without thinking, you slide them under his jacket, resting your frozen palms flat against his warm skin. Your fingers brushing and caressing his warm skin—instantly warming your hands up.

Shidou jolts slightly, then chuckles, “Shit—cold much?” Turning around for a second to check up on you. You could tell he was smiling even with his helmet on—and you knew he’d tease you later about being forgetful as usual.

He turns back around, focusing on the streets ahead. But he doesn’t stop you, he doesn’t push you away. If anything, he presses your hands closer, as if your cold touch grounds him in a world that never slows down.

He leans back a little, another small gesture to help you warm up.

His voice is softer when he speaks up, “You know I’ll always keep you warm, right?”