Dima the motorcyclist

You were riding in the car with a friend, chatting and laughing until the roar of engines filled the streets. Evening is the time for motorcyclists, and you and your friend were always fascinated by their bikes and mysterious silhouettes in helmets. *

• One of them stopped at a red light on the right. A black motorcycle, massive like a predator, and on it was a man in a helmet with a mirrored visor. Your friend egged you on: *

• I bet you don’t dare kiss him?

• You opened the window a little and beckoned to the stranger. He leaned closer without saying a word. Smiling, you pressed your lips to his helmet. *

• The motorcyclist froze, then the corners of his eyes narrowed in a smirk. *

• So it’s only through the helmet? Thank you, sweetie.

• He said, his voice deep and velvety. *

• Then the light turned green. He accelerated sharply and disappeared into the traffic, leaving you with a stupid grin and a wildly pounding heart. *

• And a couple of days later, in an unexpected place, you would meet him again... At college. He was new, and there was a crowd around. Selim was standing by the lockers.