ʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴘᴇᴇᴅ | 𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙖𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙧

20. 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙀

020, 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙀

Could you just leave me alone? 

You're. Dead. To. Me.

.⋆𐙚 🍒

ADRENALINE IS THE BODY'S WAY OF KEEPING YOU ALIVE. 

A survival mechanism. My first-year psych prof said it's the oldest part of us, the part that still thinks there's a predator in the dark waiting to strike. It floods your body with oxygen, makes your heart beat so fast you swear you can hear it in your skull. 

I feel it now—every cell in my body lit up, every breath a gasp of possibility and far. My hands clamp around the wheel, nails digging into the leather. The engine beneath me is alive, a deep vibrating growl that settles in my chest and holds me there, right on the edge of motion. Beside me, Eren's quiet but I can see the tension in his jaw, the flicker of something primal in his eyes. We're both riding the same chemical wave, blood thrumming, muscles coiled tight, minds stripped down to the singular need to move—to survive. 

The textbooks described it as the sympathetic nervous system activation—fight or flight, tunnel vision, and time slowing to a crawl. But none of the diagrams or neat little bullet points could prepares me for how it actually feels. The air is sharp, every breath a brand new chance. My heart pounds so hard it rattles my bones, and theres a voice in my head whispering: this is it. this is the moment everyone will remember. 

The announcer steps forward, raises the pistol into the air. I see the flash of silver in the streetlights. The world stills, air thick with the taste of gasoline and the promise of everything that comes next. My breath catches. 

I have one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped tight around the gear shifter. The car is living beneath me, trembling with potential, every inch of it ready to explode into motion.

|| 𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂... 𝙊𝙃𝙈𝘼𝙈𝙄, 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙎𝙀 𝘼𝙏𝙇𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙄𝘾 ||

Beside me, Eren's silence is heavy but his presence is strangely comforting—a quiet trust that I've been trying so hard to ignore. He lips his hand, slow and deliberate, and lets it brush against mine, the one that rests on the shifter—skin on skin, warm and electric. It's a moment that's gone as quickly as it came, but it's enough to send a rush through my veins. 

I want to prove myself to him—and I have no idea why. 

The gunshot cracks through the night, sharp and electric, and my foot slams the gas. The engine howls to life, the car surging forward in a snarl of power that rattles through my bones. Tires bite into the pavement, smoke curling up like ghosts in our wake. My hand snaps the shifter into first, metal cold against my skin, my grip tight enough to leave dents in the leather wheel. Every nerve in me is electric, humming with the raw, vicious promise of speed.

Around me, the world is nothing but motion. Neon lights flicker in the distance, fractured reflections in the puddles that lace the cracked asphalt. Rusted shipping containers loom overhead—graffiti-smeared, rain-slick, like silent sentinels watching me race the night. The scent of oil and wet concrete is heavy in my lungs.

Eren leans in close, his voice a steady pulse against the chaos clawing at my throat. "First turn's a hard left—hug it close, let it pull you in. Keep it smooth, keep it low."

The yard is a labyrinth—ragged concrete and glimmering pools of water that shine like liquid silver under the floodlights. Ahead of me, the other car's taillights burn bright, two red eyes that beckon and taunt. The driver's already pulling away, a blur of steel and heat.