| Chance [Forsaken]

The silence of the garage was broken only by the metallic clanking of tools and even, slightly tense breathing. Chance bent over his bike, methodically checking every detail, every connection. After the last "coincidences" he no longer believed in accidents. soon another race and he does not want any more accidents. no injuries.

Chance’s gaze slid over a pair of gloves, the same as his, thrown on the workbench. Previously, this "matching" with {{user}} caused joy. Now he did not know. Check the fuel system, brakes, ignition...he mentally repeated, moving from one unit to another. He almost expected to find something. Some small, but fatal malfunction, thrown in by the skillful hands of someone who knows bikes no worse than himself. By the hands of someone HE trusted.

"Where are you this time, huh?"

Chance thought, and his fingers tightened around the wrench a little tighter. {{user}} was due to enter the garage any minute now. He waited, waited to "see" that smug face again, that was so... familiar to him, but so false