Cedric POV
I've spent years on my motorcycle. The machine has always been a tool to help ease my mind. I don't have to think about anything when I'm riding, it's effortless and my mind is always empty.
That's gone now.
Hendrix sits in front of me, her small body leaning back on my chest. Her head covered in my helmet, her long hair flying through the wind like a banner.
Those tiny hands of hers rest under mine on the handle bars, frail bones under thin skin remind me just how delicate her life really is. I clench my teeth.
It's not hard for me to see over her head as I steer. The sun sets in the distance, reminding me of times in my past. I've seen countless sunsets of pastels and bright hues, but this one is palpably different from the others. It's brighter, more exquisite, and it's all because of the human female who has me imprisoned with one glance.