The roar of my bike echoed down the empty street, wind whipping past us like a challenge. The sun was starting to dip, casting long shadows as the world blurred around us. Ermelinda was clinging to me like her life depended on it, arms locked tight around my waist, her breath warm against my back.
I could feel the tension in her grip — tight, a little nervous. Probably still thinking about that scholarship, all the stress I knew she carried but never showed.
I glanced over my shoulder, catching her wide-eyed stare. The way her red hair whipped behind her made her look like she belonged in a music video or something. I couldn't help but grin.
"You know," I said, my voice dropping into that teasing tone she hated but secretly loved, "I'm thinking about making you fall."
Her eyes snapped open wider, half shock, half mock outrage. "Don't you freaking dare," she hissed, squeezing me tighter.
"Oh, come on," I laughed, feeling the thrill of the moment. "It's just a little harmless fun. Besides, it'd be my fault, so you couldn't really be mad at me."
She shot me a look over my shoulder, one part warning, one part challenge. "You're ridiculous."
"That's the point." I revved the engine just enough to make her jump. "Hold on tight, Red."
She groaned but didn't let go. I felt her body tense, ready for anything — except maybe the kind of ride I was about to give her.
We sped down the street, the world whipping past in streaks of color and sound. I threw in a sharp turn, then another, laughing as she yelped behind me.
"See?" I teased, "Making you fall would be way too easy."
"Shut up, Elias!" she snapped, but her laugh bubbled through, breaking the tension.
For those few minutes, nothing else mattered — no fights, no scholarships, no pressure — just the wind, the road, and the thrill of not knowing what would come next.
And maybe, just maybe, the feeling that no matter what happened, I'd always have her back.