"That... I can go back myself."
Winston moved his phone away and was about to say something when someone from the insurance company came.
Hunter finished the matter, watched his car being towed away, exhaled, turned his face to the side, and found that Winston was still waiting for him.
Under the street lamp, his figure is very beautiful, but also very lonely.
"Let's go." He opened the door for Hunter.
Hunter pinched his ears: Well, the crap went home in a genius car.
With the night wind blowing, Hunter closed his eyes and wondered how Winston drove, how to control the clutch, how to turn the steering wheel.
His drive is smooth, and it feels comfortable to stop or steer at intersections.
The comfort made Hunter wonder why.
"You drive like this... you really don't look like a race car driver..."
Winston turned his face to the side, and the corners of his lips twitched: "Do you want to try it?"
This was the first time Hunter saw such an obvious smile from the other party. Like a finger spinning around in his body, his heart and brain were sucked into that vortex, but the other side calmly pulled away.
Breathing out secretly, Hunter finally understood why Winston never showed even the slightest smile in front of the media, not only murdering Film, but also forcing those who saw him to a dead end!
"This is downtown, and Ferrari can't get up at all..." Hunter shrugged.
"Then go to a place where you can get up."
Winston turned the steering wheel and ran towards the suburbs.
"Hey! Where do you want to go?"
"Are you afraid of me?" The other party gave him a cool look.
"What are you afraid of?"
"I'm afraid I'll take you somewhere and put you in a dark place where you won't be able to see anyone but me, just like this for the rest of your life."
His voice was still that cold, but in this cold, something was burning maniacally.
There was no expression on his face, all the smiles just now had become hallucinations, indifferent to cruelty.
Hunter swallowed unconsciously, and he subconsciously reached out to confirm the door.
"I'm locked. You can jump, but at the current speed, you're as likely to die as falling from the tenth floor." Winston turned calmly.
The surrounding lights were getting dim, and there was almost no traffic.
Winston looked like he was about to carry out a gentle murder, and he was his prey.
Hunter knew that the other party couldn't have killed him... But what if Winston was really some kind of perverted murderer
Two days ago, I seem to have read in the newspaper that some young man was abandoned in the suburbs with multiple fractures on his body...
"Do you like me to be gentle or rough?" His voice was soft, like a lover's whisper.
But like a omen of death, it is extremely dangerous.
Hunter opened his mouth, his back was cold, and this cold was like freezing his tongue, unable to speak.
"Why don't you answer me, dear, don't you expect it at all?"
The car was getting faster and faster, and there was no one around. Hunter's sense of crisis was stronger than ever.
He is assessing whether he has the possibility of taking the car and fleeing.
Like knocking out Winston, taking control of the steering wheel, kicking him out of the car, and driving home yourself!
Do not be silly! When the racer is cornering, the average weight of gravity and helmet is 24 kilograms. Winston's neck is absolutely powerful. How could he knock him out from this distance
"Why didn't you answer me?" His voice was softer than before.
"I... I..." Hunter opened his mouth forcefully, wanting to say a word that would calm the well-dressed neurotic, but he couldn't say a word.
Oh shit! Usually fine! Why can't you speak at a critical moment
"What kind of handcuffs do you like?"
"… "
handcuffs? What the hell are handcuffs!
"Where's the whip? Prefer thicker or thinner?"
When Winston asked such words in his unmoved voice, like an invisible hand, it grabbed his heartbeat, causing Hunter's blood to sink violently for no reason.
Knock him out, must knock him out!
"If you don't speak, I don't know how to cherish you." Winston's lips were raised high, but Hunter felt that something in his mind was really going to explode.
I don't need your love!
What the hell is wrong with your nerves!
"Why are you still not talking?"
"I... think... your joke... is not funny at all." Hunter almost used all his strength to curl his stiff tongue.
Don't stutter, don't let the other person hear that you will stutter when you are nervous.
"Does it really scare you?"
The car stopped, and Winston looked at Hunter, leaning on the steering wheel.
The cold and bloody smile just now disappeared, but there was an obvious narrowness in his eyes.
At this moment, Hunter was 100% sure that Winston was kidding himself just now.
"Of course I wasn't intimidated, I just thought you were outrageous."
The mind calms down, the tongue also relaxes, and the vocal cords sound naturally.
"You have," said Winston.
There is no firm force, but it makes people feel that he is stating an objective fact.
"I do not have."
Hunter looked at Winston with very open eyes.
If you dare to ask me if I stuttered just now, I'll hit you with amnesia!
"Haven't you seen Murder Fast?" Winston asked.
"what?"
"a movie."
"what?"
"We have arrived."
"Where have you been?"
"A place to go racing."
Hunter found himself unable to keep up with Winston's thinking.
Is it always possible to achieve peak results in a grand prix because thinking and reflexes have turned too fast
Hunter followed Winston's line of sight and found that they had come to a closed runway.
"This is Ferrari's test track on the outskirts of New York City."
Uh... big teams are ho!
Winston unlocked the door with a bluetooth card, and they opened the door openly.
"Hey, is this okay?" Hunter was a little worried.
Winston is with Ferrari, but he is not.
"Just the two of us, or are you worried about what I'm going to do to you here?"
Here again, here again!
This kind of nutritious joke is completely different from what he did at the media conference or even on the F1 arena!
"Are you really Vann Winston?" Hunter asked, tilting his head.
"I'm."
"Then do you know if I use a tape recorder to record what you said..."
"If you need it, I can bring it to you next time."
"I think you should still be a man who is stern and silent and like a sculpture."
"Okay, next time." Winston drove to the starting point on the test track.
"Hey, are you really going to race here?"
"Aren't you curious, at what speed will the Ferrari supercar burst?"
Hunter held his head: "Did you know that your character was broken?"
"I was like that."
"Okay... You're willing to blow your Ferrari, I don't mind..."
Hunter's voice just fell, and Winston changed gears neatly, the engine roared, and the sports car rushed out frantically.
Hunter's head nearly slammed into the back of the chair.
One F1 race is equivalent to more than fifty roller coasters.
Logically Hunter wouldn't be scared, but when Winston was accelerating furiously on the straight, Hunter's face was almost pressed against the window as he entered the corner.
Turning in the opposite direction again, Hunt couldn't help but lean in Winston's direction, his head almost resting on the other's shoulder.
As if entering a time tunnel, Hunter discovered that the entire test track was not lit at all, relying on Ferrari's lights and Winston's reaction!
With no heat shield, no helmet, the wind wrinkled Hunter's face with destructive force, making it difficult to breathe.
This way of driving a sports car, the pursuit is not the speed of the cylinder explosion, but self-destruction!
When Hunter glanced at the dashboard, his heart broke because they had already surpassed Ferrari's announced sports car speed.
After three laps, Winston allowed the car to slow down, and when the sports car came to a stop, Hunter froze there, motionless.
"What are you thinking?" The initiator was very calm.
Hunter did not speak.
He really thought they'd end up running off the track, crashing into the bumper, and getting run over by the airbag.
"Don't be nervous. There's no way a supercar can go faster than an F1." Winston unbuckled his seatbelt, propped himself on the seat with one hand, and leaned in Hunter's direction.
At this point, Hunter finally understood that when Winston drives in the city, the smooth flow is called "safety".
And the uncontrolled pursuit of speed on the test track is called "madness".
He didn't understand how a person could combine both qualities at the same time.
Winston's hair was messy at this time, and his bow tie had long been torn off and hung lazily to one side, with his neckline open.
Bohemian... This is the adjective that flashed through Hunter's mind at this time.
"Take a deep breath and think about your control over your brain being transferred to the tip of your tongue. Now tell me, are you scared?"
Winston's voice was soft and gentle.
"I'm not afraid."
In his voice, Hunter seemed to find himself.
"If you're not afraid, what are you thinking now?"
"… my hairdo… is it finished?"
Winston raised his chin slightly, and Hunter could clearly feel the guy laughing.
His fingers brushed Hunter's ears, smoothing his hair.
"it's good now."
That intimacy at the banquet resurfaced.
Hunter felt that he must have known each other a long time ago. But no matter how hard you try, you can't remember.
"Hey—you bastard, you don't even have the lights on the test track! What if we rush out!"
"I've driven this test track countless times."
Meaning, it won't crash with your eyes closed.
"… All right."
"It's the same with the Formula 1 circuit."
"what?"
"You strain yourself too hard in the game."
The author has something to say: Salted egg time:
Hunter: Can one person be gentle and rough with another
Winston: Of course—kiss you tenderly, fuck you roughly.