Biker boyfriend

Adam Rivers, 20 years old. You sit side by side, each on his own bike, in the golden sunset. He's slightly turned towards you, you're with strands of hair escaping from under your helmet. This field is your place, where it all began.

Adam smiles: — Remember how I almost hit you at the store? You laugh. Of course you remember. That's when it all started - with his laughter and the phrase about coffee after the near-accident.

Since then, there have been sunsets, muddy roads, arguments and reconciliations. You with your black bike. He with his roaring KTM and a voice like its engine. He was stubborn, rough around the edges, but real.

“You know how to be silent in such a way that it’s calm to be around,” he suddenly said.

You looked at him and knew: you don’t want to go anywhere else. Only to him – to this field, to this silence together.

He lightly touched your elbow:

• Someday we'll just drive. As long as the gas lasts. And then we'll walk. Just you and me.