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The warmth from the pyrotechnics fight against the scorching heat of the sun for your attention, your complexion slightly more flush than usual as you watch the show. You didn’t really know why you found yourself so drawn by the bikes, loud revving paired with cheering from the audience you got swept into as your eyes followed their path back and forth.
Somehow you were lucky enough to be pushed to the front, the rider’s path short but still used effectively as you watch them flip and turn smoothly in the air. One of the riders – you think they called him Mephisto – stands out the most to you. His jumps seem the riskiest, almost fully letting go of his bike or even landing on the other side of the track backwards to come down the ramp without even looking. Your heart flutters with adrenaline, unable to take your eyes off of him.
The biker’s circuit takes them right up to the railing you’re pressed against. Some of them wave or high five the other audience members as they ride past, giving a bit of fanservice before going to complete their next jump. You don’t pay them any mind, eyes trained on the ramps when suddenly one of the bikers stops right in front of you. The others around you nudge you for your attention, laughing a little when you yelp in surprise at the stranger in front of you.
He doesn’t say anything but you get the sense he’s staring right at you through the tinted visor of his helmet. Warmth begins to spread through your body again but you’re not sure this time if it’s from the summer heat or the fact that his palm is open to you.
Hesitantly, you reach out to put your palm on his fully intending to just shake his hand but when he turns his hand to rest yours on his, you immediately know what he wants. You watch with wide eyes as your fingers instinctively curl around his, allowing him to press them against his visor quickly right where his lips would be before he rides away with a slight wave of his fingers. You hear the screaming from around you, everyone else seemingly more excited than you are about the encounter.
“Oh, thank you,” you say quietly, smiling shyly at the rider.
Despite the noise around the two of you he hears you. You think you can see past the tint of the visor slightly, a smirk resting on rugged features as he finally departs to end the performance.
The show comes to an end and a quick look at your phone reminds you that you need to head home soon. Much to your dismay, you end up needing to walk further away from the carnival to avoid paying the jacked-up prices because of the event, already exhausted from the day. The walk is peaceful at least, albeit exhausting from your long day. You enjoy the chatter of the nightlife, thankfully not alone as many others had decided to do the same as yourself.
You huff to yourself, lamenting the fact that you’re alone this evening. Nobody you invited could make it out tonight for a multitude of reasons and you couldn’t make it to the days they were free and absolutely refused to miss out on the festivities. You ignore the fact that everyone around you looks like they’re having fun with their friends and partners, keeping your eyes firmly focused straight ahead as you march down the street.
A loud bike sounds from behind you and despite knowing that the sound is coming from the road and definitely will not run you over but you sidestep anyway. You walk a little faster, hoping to outpace the bike in case it spits another loud noise, not wanting to look too jumpy this late at night.
The engine cuts out behind you and you heave a sigh of relief, walking a little more relaxed for just half a second when someone clears their throat from behind you. Despite your better judgment you decide to give them your attention, turning around to meet an intensely scarlet gaze. Your breath catches in your throat, trying not to seem too distracted by the handsome stranger standing in front of you.
“Well, it seems we meet again kitten,” he practically purrs at you, velvet voice warming the slight chill of your skin as he takes a slow step towards you.
“Again? What do you mean?” you manage to say, trying not to show him how affected you are by his presence.
Your eyes happen to dart down to his gloves, widening slightly.
“You - you’re the rider! Mephisto?”
“The one and only,” he smirks, offering his hand to you once again.
“I’m glad I found you again. I was beginning to worry you’d only be a fleeting memory.”
You give him your hand again without thinking, letting him gently rest his lips against your knuckles. The soft brush of his lips against your skin without the helmet in the way makes your body light up, trying not to look too awestruck when he straightens back up.
“You can call me Sylus. Mephisto is just a stage name. I’ll be staying here for a few weeks past the festival. If you’re in the area why don’t you give me a call?”
He offers you a business card from the pocket of his leather jacket, silently urging you to take it. You turn over the thin cardstock in your hand and admire how sleek and elegant it is. The resemblance is uncanny to the man in front of you.
“I wouldn’t want to bother you. You must be busy,” you say after considering his offer, still tucking it into a pocket for safekeeping.
“Now kitten, don’t think of it as bothering me. You’d be keeping me company.”
As if the pet name wasn’t enough to make you crack he has the audacity to lean into you more, crowding you against the wall of a building you didn’t notice nearing your back.
“Think about it a little.”
Your breaths intermingle for a second before he finally steps back, waving a farewell to you as he mounts his bike. You watch him drive away, trying to catch your breath.
If fate put him in your path you don’t think you have the strength to resist.