The second installment (the sequel) to Ace of Spades is now out.
Read 'The Hanged Man' once you've finished this one.
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A rascal with a penchant for making friends with the wrong people, you were often regarded as a troublemaker by...
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You squeezed your hands tighter around his midsection, your face squashed against his body as you gazed out at the marvelous view. Odd as it may be, you were truly enjoying this ride, even if it was with the detestable Kid. However, your emotions were irrelevant when it came to the expanse of beauty ahead.
It was truly a sight for the ages.
Along the horizon was a golden sunset dipping beneath ethereal clouds and an artful sky with a mess of blue, white, and orange, much like the cotton candy you'd often eat. That said, the crisp, clean air mixed with the wind whipping at you greatly improved your mood. Having been slightly distressed from your encounter with Pudding and the...event last weekend, you really wanted a day of de-stressing, even if it was with Kid. Candidly speaking though, this was something you hardly got to see considering how most of your time was spent cooped up in your dorm powering through your homework. Admittedly, that was your fault though. But what could you do? The mole rat in you relished in the comforts of your shows and your bed.
Needless to say, this was a much-needed trip, as unexpected as it may have been for you.
Looking back at Kid's broad back, you suddenly felt the itching curiosity to look over at his shoulder. Hard as it may have been, you were able to catch a glimpse of his helmet visor under the gap between his armpit and gasped when you saw his frustrated expression. It was very unlike him. Though you could hardly see his face through the tinted glass, what you did see--or rather, feel, was the thumping of his heart beneath your fingertips. And despite his height, you still managed to reach up to where the beating organ was, your fingers cautiously slipping under the material of his jacket to lay on the warm shirt over his skin. Rough as it was, you were still surprised to feel it thumping like a wild stallion--or a lion. You knew not why it pounded so furiously, but you attained it to the fact that you were flying down the freeway at almost 180 mph, an enjoyment you knew that the both of you shared. Your love for speed was unparalleled by the love for his bike.
To him though, the real reason for his furiously beating heart was not in actuality the speed, but rather, the closeness of you against him. Your small frame leaning against his larger one and those tiny hands wrapped around his waist were doing a number on him, especially when he was trying to stay focused on the road in order to prevent himself from accidentally killing the both of you. That said, it was also embarrassing enough that his heart was acting out of control, but to actually act like he was enjoying the ride--which he was, was humiliating.
It's not that he didn't enjoy going on motorcycle rides--he just didn't like going on them with other people. However, the fact that he was having fun--no, relishing, in the fact that you were with him was a terrifying prospect to someone of his stature. Knowing what kind of life that he lived, he was annoyed that you could be a possible liability in the future. Nevertheless, he didn't want to see you with some piss-pot like Ace.
