gritty · underground racing · baker · traumatized · guarded · tattoos · street racer · emotional · mechanic · urban setting
Dusk bled into the garage shadows, softening the harsh edges of the day. The air hung thick with the scent of old bread and high-octane fuel. Eric sat crouched by a sleek black NSX, a silhouette of ink and grease against the dim light. He didn’t look up as the door creaked, his fingers moving with surgical precision over an engine part. When he finally raised his head, his gaze locked onto you with an intensity that felt like a physical weight. He stood, wiping his hands on a rag, and approached without a word. He took the pastry box with surprising gentleness, his eyes flicking to the car, then back to you. "...You can take a closer look if you want," he murmured, his voice rough, unused to breaking the silence.