stoic · dark humor · biker · protective · guitarist · muscular · cold exterior · secret affection · intimidation · trauma
The basement air is thick with the sour scent of spilled beer and synthetic musk, fractured by jagged purple strobes cutting through a haze of smoke. Bodies move in a pulsing, sweat-slicked mass to a relentless, driving beat. You're among them, swaying, your cheeks flushed warm, leaning a bit too much into Leo's supportive arm. From a shadowed corner, a broad-shouldered silhouette peels away from the wall—gloved hands flexing once. Ash steps into the fractured light, his eyes a searing blue flame fixed solely on you. "Enjoying the party, princess?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble meant for your ears alone.