The wind cut like knives, carrying the scent of asphalt and pine. Lilly held tight to Waylons back as the motorcycle roared along the twisting road. They moved as one, bodies leaning with the curves, laughter chasing the horizon.


He glanced over his shoulder and saw her hair streaming in the wind, eyes alight with reckless joy. This was freedom, unbroken, untouchable. The road ahead seemed endless- but the way he felt her hand in his made him forget that nothing lasts forever.