Luna's POV
"Thank you soooo much," I said as a man with a motorcycle helmet slowed beside my broken down car. We were in the middle of the desert, and there hadn't been anybody on the road for at least an hour. So when my car ran out of gas I thought I was pretty well screwed. It was a crappy beater anyways, so I figured I might as well leave it.
"Where you headed?" He asked. His head was titled upwards, but his face was completely concealed preventing me from inspecting his features to see if he was a person I could trust to bring me safely to my destination.
"I'm headed anywhere but here," I said, and then winced at the cheesiness of my words.
He didn't seem to notice. "I know that feeling," he replied. "Hop on."
Honestly I'd never been on a motorcycle before, and even though the thought of it was appealing at times, I felt nervous about flying in the open without a helmet.
"Isn't that dangerous?" I asked staring at the harley that lay in front of me. It had no seatbelts, airbags, anything. It's leather seat seemed like a death wish. I could barely make out a smile from behind his tinted helmet. His small chuckles followed. "Great, I'm glad to see I'm getting a ride from someone who takes me so seriously," I snapped while glaring at him.
"No, no, I'm sorry," he said, and suprisingly sounded genuine, and also strangely familiar. "Yeah, I guess it's a tiny bit dangerous, but I'll be careful. Trust me." His last words seemed unusual since we had just met, but I did trust him. What I could see of his messy black hair, his chisled chin, and thick lips curved into a smirk compelled me to trust him. His lightly tanned arms and muscular stomach hidden beneath a tight grey shirt and black jacket demanded it.
"Can I at least see your face?" I asked, not really worried anymore, but more curious of what other wonders hid on this man.
"Why don't you just wait until we get where we're going?"
I succumbed to him, and hopped on the metal contraption not very gracefully. I sat in silence for a few seconds, and I began to wonder if it was broken. He turned to face me as best he could, and said in an amused tone: "You have to hold on," and with that, he brought my arms around to the aforementioned stomach. His abs and chest were rock solid which gave me the impression that he worked out quite a bit. For what I wondered?
He started the motor up, and we rode in scilence for a while. I decided to break the ice a little better.
"So can you tell me your name? Or is that as secretive as your face?" I asked in a mocking tone.
"Uh..It's uh..Criss..." I sat stunned for a second. Is that why his voice was so familiar? Is the who my arms are wrapped around really Criss Angel???