RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"You know what I meant." Ronin chuckles, even if Remi, in fact, did not know. His laughter at the other man's second remark is a lot more mischievous, though he does indeed straighten them up, the bike slowing somewhat as, in the distance, the lights shoot away in a string that marks the Brooklyn Bridge. "Better?" he asks. "Sorry - I'm not used to a passenger."
But then Bandcamp's leaning forward and whispering sweet nothings into his helmet (at least as close to them as Ronin gets) and even though he doesn't have to, he whispers back. "She'll get to 280kph if I let her," he tells the other man. "Never got much past 190 though, and even then it's usually the dead of night when I try." He might like to go fast, might even like to be reckless, but Ronin isn't stupid - even less so when it's not just his life he's carrying around.
"Why, how fast do you want it?" There's an innuendo there, and he doesn't try to shy away from it.
But then Bandcamp's leaning forward and whispering sweet nothings into his helmet (at least as close to them as Ronin gets) and even though he doesn't have to, he whispers back. "She'll get to 280kph if I let her," he tells the other man. "Never got much past 190 though, and even then it's usually the dead of night when I try." He might like to go fast, might even like to be reckless, but Ronin isn't stupid - even less so when it's not just his life he's carrying around.
"Why, how fast do you want it?" There's an innuendo there, and he doesn't try to shy away from it.
show me your darkness.
