𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝕯𝖎𝖊 || Draken x Reader

XXXVII: 𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔬'𝔰 𝔇𝔢𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔩𝔢

"Are you ready to go?" Draken asked you tentatively as he watched you rummage through your shoulder bag in hopes to find something.

"Wait," you said out of breath. "I can't find my phone!"

"How can you forget your phone?"

"I don't know!" In your defense, your Prada handbag was too small to hold everything you needed for the day, including a comb, perfume bottle, alcohol, tissues, wallet, and umbrella so everything was just mushed up inside to fit. You were sure that you had packed your phone inside last night when you were fixing your things.

His patience was running out with each second that you unintentionally wasted just because you were too irresponsible to fix your things in order. Your bag wasn't that messily strewn with random objects, but despite that, you still couldn't find your phone amidst all the papers and bottles. "Forget it—"

You exclaimed out loud, "Ah! I found it!" A short course of triumph made your lips curl up into a smile as you successfully found your phone.

Draken looked down to see the contents of your bag and saw that you were trying to remove your phone from between the pages of a notebook. "What's that notebook for?"

You walked ahead of him towards the exit of the brothel and replied, "I have important notes there." For easy access later, you decided to put your phone in the pocket of your pants. Were you to put it back in your bag, it would have been lost in another dimension without any chance of you finding it for the second time.

The two of you made your departure from the brothel, leaving the front glass doors to shut close behind your wake.

"Where are you going?" You asked Draken when he went in the opposite direction of where you were supposed to go.

"My motorcycle is this way," he pointed his thumbs to the left.

"Oh. Can't we take the train?"

"It's easier to ride my motorcycle." Draken walked towards the small vacant area beside the brothel where he had parked his slick black bike.

You'd rather take the train, honestly, and that should explain your hesitancy to trail along with his footfalls. To ride motorcycles, to drive between cars along the highway in a thin black piece of metal; everything just reminded you of him. Nostalgia was your thing and sentimentality was your lifestyle. You could not help it to think twice, maybe thrice, about riding a motorcycle again. To be more specific, you did not want to ride anyone else's motorcycle. It would just bring back haunted memories. It felt as if it was an act of betrayal to Baji, though you were sure that was not the case at all.

"It's faster to take the train," you tried to argue with Draken but he was already mounting his motorbike.

"I'm pretty sure my motorcycle is faster," he counter-argued. When you had caught up to him, gingerly walking to the side of his bike, Draken had thrusted a helmet onto your hands. You stared at it blankly for a few seconds before you snapped your eyes back to reality and wore the protective gear. Of course, not without a bicker or two. "Can we take the train instead?" You asked him— almost in a begging manner.

"No, so shut up and hop on," he said in his usual low voice that sounded annoyed and impatient. He always came off to you as a cranky dad who got divorced five times from the long list of his previous wives. You had no choice but to obey his very considerate and kind demands that did not really, at all, sound more like a threat than a plead. Starting with your right leg, you crossed it to the side of the motorcycle and jumped on its patent leather seat. It was a bitter memory of the scurf of emotions you once felt when you had first ridden a motorcycle with Baji. To think that you'd ride one again after all these years in a casual setting like this would just be a waste of gasoline and the air of tires. Especially since it was with Draken, who was neither a friend of yours nor a lover. Certainly not a lover.