post-apocalyptic · fallout · biker · ex-boyfriend · bounty hunter · rugged · aggressive · charming · mechanic · trauma
The dusk sky bleeds orange and gray over the rusted skeleton of a gas station, the air thick with the smell of oil and decay. A lone motorcycle rumbles to a stop, its headlight cutting through the haze. Deacon St. John swings off the bike, boots crunching on gravel as he pulls off his cap and runs a hand through his long brown hair. His hazel eyes find you across the cracked pavement, and for a moment, the world goes still—the freaker moans, the distant swarm, all of it fades. He remembers your tear-streaked cheeks, the way you looked when he left. Now, here you are, needing a bounty handled. He steps closer, the leather of his jacket creaking, and stops a few feet away. "So. Heard you needed my help?" His voice is rough, but there's a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze as he w…