Bikes & Blood

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈.

"Don't blame me, love made me crazy. If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right"
-Don't Blame Me, Taylor Swift.

The noise of the boardwalk seemed quieter here-muffled-like one's head was beneath the ripple-free pool of water they had submerged themselves in. Oblivious to the world around them as Paul's fingers clutched the silky material of Amara's shirt, crumpling the shirt in his fist as he sought to draw her closer to him. Not that she minded, lost in the haze that obscured her mind like his own, lips moving in a perfect tangent as her hands moved to the back of his neck.

Her wrists crossing over the other, fingers tangling in the champagne locks at the nape of his neck, chest pressed into his like the immortalised statues of old depicting Eros and Psyche-two gods whose love seemed to derive from Olympus itself, perfect for each other in ways that many couldn't fathom.

The life of the boardwalk bustled around them, continuing like they were mere specks in its eternal thrall. Passers-by that longed for the passion that blazed in both their chests, threw them envious looks, while most screwed their noses up at the public display of affection. Throwing obscene sneers in their direction that the pair ignored, trapped in the other's embrace. Their lips dancing together to a song only they could hear, muffled by the rumble of engines that drew closer, shattering the haze that'd clouded her mind as the roar turned deafening, and she pulled away from Paul with furrowed brows.

Her gaze locked first on the stripped-down motorbike to the left of her. Umber-brown irises finding hers in the neon lights of the boardwalk, ebony locks falling freely over the cheetah encrusted jacket as Dwayne's presence registered in her mind over the rumble of the idling bike. His chest bared for all to see as he planted his boot-clad feet on the floor, black jeans slit along the knee like Paul's, bracelet imbued arm lifting to brush a stray piece of hair behind his shoulder whilst he studied her with his deep, soulful gaze.

As she turned away from Dwayne and to the second motorbike to the right of her, she wondered what she'd done in a past life to garner the devious smile that played at the corners of Marko's lips. His honey-brown irises rippling with mischief, finger-less gloved hand lifted to his face as he trapped his thumb between his teeth to hide his grin. His forearms draped across the silver handlebars as he rested much of his body weight upon his arms, kickstand locked firmly into place while his boots rested on the foot pegs of his bike, left idling as he pulled his hand away from his face and rested it upon his jean-clad thigh, his golden curls mused from the saline breeze of Santa Carla.

Deeply rooted dread curled in her stomach as Paul's hand moved from the back of her head and to her waist, shifting his body so that he could peer over his shoulder and back at the darkly charming smile that stretched across David's face. David's steel-blue irises blazed with a chilling fire as she met his gaze from over Paul's shoulder. His platinum-blonde hair tousled and yet impeccably styled into that stark spiked mullet. The black trench coat, shirt, jeans, boots, and leather gloves eerily enunciating the blue of his eyes; his boots planted firmly on the ground beside his idling bike.

"Forgetting something, are we, Paul?" David drawled, gloved hands resting leisurely upon the metallic handlebars of his bike, cigarette tucked snugly behind his right ear.

Amara frowned, turning her head towards Marko with a questioning glimmer to her eyes-one that Marko could only supply with an unhelpful shrug of his shoulders. A huff of irritation passed between her kiss-bruised lips, turning back towards David with wary ochre irises. Her back tensed as she registered the sneer curled into Paul's lips, his gaze brimming with irritation and disdain as David cocked his head, taunting the dirty blonde with the easy tilt to his brows.

Glacier-blue irises locked on hers for the briefest of moments before returning to Paul; his words directed at them all with predatory ease. "Let's go, boys." David paused; gaze tunnelled upon her. "Little dove."