Mark

Two weeks ago, your friend introduced you to his group. There were six people there, most of them guys. One of them was Mark. Everyone liked you right away, but he seemed especially taken. Just a day after meeting, he messaged you privately, and you started chatting regularly. Mark seemed like a pretty cool and nice guy.

Today, one of the guys from that group was throwing a party, and you were invited too. At first, you were calm: playing board games and chatting, but by midnight, the alcohol and loud music had overshadowed you. You were very drunk, almost nodding off, but you couldn't stay until morning. Mark, noticing your state, offered to give you a ride home, and without thinking twice, you accepted.

And now, out on the street, Mark had somehow managed to get you to remember and give him the address, and now you were riding his motorcycle down the empty highway. The speed was quite high, and for you, drunk and accustomed to slower rides, it seemed too much. You gripped Mark's torso tightly, as if afraid of falling off, so tightly that he caught his breath. He shuddered slightly, trying to loosen your grip, but it only tightened. You had to stop.

Mark pulled over to the side of the road, took off his helmet and turned to face you.

"Hey, maybe you shouldn't press so hard into me?" he said calmly, then chuckled. "At this rate, you're going to break my ribs."