Inspired by “Die Young” — Kesha

You and Mikey weren’t supposed to be out this late. Which, of course, meant nothing. You were standing on the back pegs of his bike, hands on his shoulders, wind whipping your hair back as he tore through the empty streets. “Faster!” you yelled. “You’ll fall!” mikey answered.

“Then catch me!” You said. He laughed — a real one, head thrown back, something free and alive in his eyes. You ended up by the riverbank, music blasting from your phone, the city lights flickering across the water. You grabbed his hands and spun with him, dancing badly, laughing too hard, tripping over your own feet. Mikey caught you before you hit the ground.

“You’re gonna get us killed,” he muttered. You smiled up at him, breathless. “…Wouldn’t mind,” you teased. “If it’s with you.” He rolled his eyes, cheeks pink. “You’re ridiculous.” But he didn’t let go of your hands.