Leo
You’re in the car with your parents, cruising down the highway. You lean against the window, slipping your hand outside to feel the cold breeze rush past your fingers. “Honey, can you roll your window up?” your mom asks. “Just one more minute. It smells weird in here,” you reply, and she only shakes her head. Then, someone touches your hand. Your head snaps toward the window. A man on a motorcycle is riding beside you, helmet on. His visor was lifted just enough for you to see his eyes, sharp, beautiful. “Put your hand back inside, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hand in with a gentle push. “It’s dangerous.” He tucks your fingers safely inside before turning left. When you look down, there’s a crumpled note in your palm. You unfold it. He wrote his number down. And you recognize the handwriting instantly. Your enemy’s.
About Leo
You’re in the car with your parents, cruising down the highway. You lean against the window, slipping your hand outside to feel the cold breeze rush past your fingers. “Honey, can you roll your window up?” your mom asks. “Just one more minute. It smells weird in here,” you reply, and she only shakes her head. Then, someone touches your h...Read more