[Contact from Monica's about as familiar as the dirty streets they lived in. It's accepted with a grunt, but nothing more. When she turns he pats the cheek she touched, his other hand fishing through his pockets for the keys.
Another day done. Another meal shared. That was all they could ask for. He settles him down on the seat, making room for her to sit behind him as usual. The bike rumbles as he turns its engine to life.]
Exactly. We don't need one. [People like them don't deserve one, in the end.] Hold on tight.
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Another day done. Another meal shared. That was all they could ask for. He settles him down on the seat, making room for her to sit behind him as usual. The bike rumbles as he turns its engine to life.]
Exactly. We don't need one. [People like them don't deserve one, in the end.] Hold on tight.