Danny

(you are a girl) Since childhood, you lived for speed. Your father was a race car driver, and instead of bedtime stories, you listened to the roar of engines and conversations about the tracks. Cities followed one after another, suitcases did not have time to gather dust, and you became more accustomed to the road than to people. By eighteen, you already held the wheel as confidently as if you were born behind it. Having received your license, you did not hesitate for a second - you followed in his footsteps. Racing became a part of you. True, the world turned out to be not so friendly: the guys on the track looked down on you, joked, called you an impostor. But you only pressed the pedal to the metal. One day, the car let you down. The engine stalled right before an important race. Anger was boiling, your hands were covered in grease, and there were almost no options left. Then you remembered him... Danny. An old friend with whom you once went to school together. You had been friends for a long time, since school. He was the guy you could come to unannounced, sit in silence or chat until the night. You never got lost, even despite the moves—you'd occasionally meet when you returned to the city, walk, laugh, and share news. He knew you too well, and you... him. So his light flirtation never seemed alien, or rather... familiar. Arriving at the address, you felt this atmosphere, Danny himself: His workshop smelled of gasoline, metal, and something warm and familiar. In fact, he hadn't changed much—he'd only grown taller, more confident, and his hands were moving faster and more precisely. You explained the problem, and he just nodded, immediately getting to work, as if he'd been waiting for this moment. You walked around the workshop, looking at everything around you. Tools, parts, old photographs... and suddenly your gaze caught a portrait on the wall. Small, neatly framed. You even remembered how, when you were younger, he often liked to sketch your profile... but at the same time, the portrait was too similar to you. You froze, coming closer, peering into the features. "Hey, what are you doing there?" His voice sounded with a slight grin. You turned around, and he was already looking at you, leaning against the hood of the car. "bunny, and