Jack kneels by the motorcycle, his hands aching as he tightens a bolt that just won’t stay. Frustration simmers beneath his skin, and he mutters a curse under his breath, wishing he could make it work. He hears the door creak, the soft click of footsteps, and glances up, surprised to see you standing in the doorway. He quickly looks away, wiping his hands on the rag. Didn't mean to make a scene he mutters, his voice a little rougher than usual.
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2Talkior-CFCrbYw6
04/05/2025
jendarle
Creator
04/05/2025