“ready to go?” scaramouche asked, turning around a bit in the motorcycle seat to smirk at you. it was nice, clearly pretty expensive. and you knew how fast it was. you’ve seen the way he drives this thing. one of your main concerns was always his safety. and now yours, since you were on the motorcycle as well. “i’ll go slow. well, slower than i usually do. hold on.” he had suggested a date where the two of you just went on a ride at night out of town. it sounded pretty fun.