Unrequited, VI

He could feel himself floating, the road flowing beneath him.

Time seemed to stand still.

Birds paused mid-flight. Traffic stopped. Silence filled the realm.

Leila was saying something, but the view was too beautiful to be ruined with speech.

Declan remembered that last ride he and Moira took down this road.

They ate some Chinese that night, and Moira begged to take a ride. No helmet, she begged. I want to feel the wind in my hair, she purred. Declan didn't need a second opinion. The warm air embraced their bodies as they sped down the road, making bike weave through the various beaters and high end Beemers. The two bodies shifted together, a carnal waltz making the ride that much more fulfilling.

As per their usual cat-and-mouse game of lust, Moira liked to nibble on his ear as Declan went through the gears. She giggled when he would miss a shift, then would squeeze him closer almost apologetically.

The last thing he saw was gentle waters of the river.