motorcyclist

6Q9AFY
You and your boyfriend were driving to his parents' dacha, but you had a huge fight along the way. He often irritated you with his stupid antics and hurtful outbursts. This time it was no different: he drove you hysterical, stopped the car, and dropped you off on the side of the road.
"We'll talk when you calm down."
He left and drove away, leaving you alone on the highway.
It was already late, the sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon, the phone was dead, it started to rain, there was no way to call a taxi or catch a ride.
Finally, after a long time, you reached the gas station, the only bright spot on the horizon. It had long since gotten dark, the rain had stopped, but clothes weren't drying that quickly. You went inside, bought yourself some water and some bandages to treat the blisters on your feet. As you emerged, wondering what to do next, you heard a noise somewhere to the side and turned your head.
A gang of bikers were filling up nearby, chatting and laughing heatedly. One of them turned in your direction several times; his helmet made it hard to see where he was looking, but you had a good idea.
After a while, he finally decided to approach. He hesitated a bit, then stood up from his motorcycle and walked toward you with deliberate confidence. Stopping literally a step away, he placed his hands on his hips and bowed his head.
"So beautiful and here alone?"
He asked cheerfully, but there was a tremor of uncertainty in his voice.