The city lights blurred as they rode, wind whipping past in waves of cool night air. Draken sat steady on his bike, one hand gripping the throttle, the other comfortably at ease—as if he could ride forever with that familiar weight behind him.

The hum of the engine filled the silence. The only sound between them.

You were pressed against his back, arms wrapped lightly around him, head resting against his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time they'd done this. But tonight felt different. The air heavier. The silence deeper.

He didn’t speak. Not at first. He just kept driving, weaving through the sleeping streets until they reached the edge of the riverbank—where the city faded behind neon haze and the stars dared to peek through.

Draken cut the engine, the rumble dying into a soft, ringing quiet.

He didn’t look back. Just sat there for a while, helmet still on, hands resting on the bars.

“…You always ride like this with someone you don’t like?” he asked suddenly, voice low, like he was testing something.

He felt your shift against his back. No reply. Just the sound of the wind stirring the water nearby.

£His grip on the handle tightened, just slightly.*

“We’ve known each other for years, and you still don’t get it, do you?” he murmured.