The night swallowed them the moment they stepped outside.
Akali's bike waited at the curb like a coiled predator—sleek, matte black with subtle purple trim that shimmered when the city lights hit just right. The low hum of its engine was a living thing, purring with restrained chaos.
Cole adjusted the helmet she'd thrown at him, securing the strap beneath his chin. "You sure this thing's street legal?"
Akali straddled the bike, swinging one leg over with effortless grace. "Define legal."
He sighed and climbed on behind her, arms wrapping around her waist. Her jacket smelled like smoke, leather, and that faint mint scent he'd started to associate with trouble.
"Hold on tight," she said.
Then the city blurred.
They shot down the boulevard like a bolt of lightning carved from chrome and bass. Neon signs flashed past in streaks of cyan and magenta. Billboards flickered with faces and logos—K/DA, True Damage, Pentakill—digital titans vying for attention above streets teeming with life.
Every sharp turn and narrow lane Akali took felt like a dare to gravity. Cole tightened his grip instinctively.
"You're not screaming," she shouted over the wind.
"Yet."
She laughed, tilting the bike sideways as they slid between two cars like smoke through fingers. Tires kissed asphalt. Sparks flew.
The wind roared in his ears, but the city had its own voice—a symphony of engines, synth beats leaking from club doors, the low throb of something electric pulsing just beneath the surface.
Akali took a shortcut through an alley lit by overhead holo-ads casting fractured light over graffiti-tagged walls. A flicker of gold caught Cole's eye—an old mural of K/DA, paint cracked but still proud. He made out Ahri's eyes and Seraphine's smile before they were gone.
"You always ride like this?" he asked.
"Only when someone's holding on like they might fall in love."
That earned her a quiet chuckle.
The cityscape opened up as they crossed an overpass—below them, Zaun's underbelly churned in bioluminescent fog, while Piltover's towers glittered like glass daggers in the distance.
It was chaos and poetry at once.
Akali eased off the throttle as they neared the edge of the old downtown district—one of the filming locations, if Cole remembered correctly. She slowed to a stop at a red light, near what seemed to be a broken down subways station.Cole pulled off his helmet, exhaling slowly. "You always take the scenic route?"
Akali turned slightly, her face lit by the red glow of the signal. "Only when I like the company."
He met her eyes, their usual fire softened by dusk and distance. "You like riding, huh?"
"Not riding. Moving. Fast. Loud. Unapologetic." She looked back at the road. "It's the only time I feel like I'm ahead of everything chasing me."
The light turned green. She didn't move.
Cole leaned forward, voice softer now. "What's chasing you?"
She was quiet for a beat. Then: "Expectations. Regret. My own name, sometimes."
He didn't press. Instead, he rested his forehead briefly against her shoulder. "Then keep moving. I'll ride with you."
Akali's breath caught. Just slightly. But then she kicked the bike back into gear.
"Don't slow me down, lover boy."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They tore off again, cutting through forgotten streets and winding past shuttered shops. The ride wasn't just transit anymore—it was a conversation. A dance. A confession without words.
By the time they reached the lot where the crew was setting up for the night shoot, Cole had stopped thinking about where they were going. Only that he wasn't ready to get off the bike just yet.
Akali pulled into a makeshift parking bay beside a mobile rig van and killed the engine. She leaned back against him for a moment, silent.
Neither of them moved.
"You ever think about what this all looks like from the outside?" she asked.
"Like a popstar and her manager on a high-speed joyride?"
"No," she said, smirking. "Like something that's about to get messy."
He rested his chin lightly on her shoulder. "Messy doesn't scare me."
Akali turned her head, close enough that her breath brushed his cheek. "Good."
She hopped off the bike, tossing him a glance over her shoulder that said follow me or fall behind. Cole removed his helmet and stepped off, the ground beneath him suddenly slower than he remembered.
The set ahead buzzed with motion—rigs being secured, drones calibrating, backdrops unfurling in stylized glitch-sky colors. Yasuo was already mic-checking. Qiyana was arguing with a lighting tech. Senna just nodded when she saw them arrive.
But Cole wasn't focused on them. Not yet.
He looked back at the street they came from, where the city still pulsed in broken lights and unfinished songs.
Then he turned toward Akali, who was already halfway to the set.
He followed her without hesitation.
Author's Note:
Author's note: Hi guys! If you enjoyed the please review and vote if you can ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ
patreon.com/Sakukira