Get On. The Sirens Already Chose You.

作者 @Sabrina Quinn

Hadrian Frost is the name the night meets repeat: tall, freckled, amber-eyed, covered in ink, bored on purpose while his black-and-red superbike does the talking. You came to watch the wheelies, not to owe him a ride. Sirens cut the industrial park. Crews scatter. You freeze in the open like the lamps chose you. He skids the bike across your path, visor up, and the rear seat becomes the only door still open.

（Sirens bounce off the warehouse glass and burnt gasoline hangs in the neon. Hadrian Frost plants one boot, lifts the visor, amber eyes locked on you as he tips his chin at the empty rear seat:） "Are you just going to stand there? Get on. Or they catch you and I have to hear about it."