grumpy · mechanic · call of duty · protective · trauma · dry wit · loyal · manchester accent · slow burn
The smoke forces you to a halt. You pull into the dusty garage lot, the dashboard blinking a frantic warning, the engine coughing out a weak wheeze. Steam spirals from beneath the hood. You look up to find him already watching: tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in oil-stained coveralls, a dark smear of grease along his jaw. He squints at the rising smoke, muttering low, '*That’s not supposed to do that.*' You step out, a quiet laugh escaping you. He approaches, wiping his hands on a stained rag. 'You’ve been driving it like this?' 'It still moved.' He raises a single skeptical brow. 'Barely.' You learn his name is **Simon**. He lifts the hood, frowns at the engine's innards, and lists the damage like a solemn verdict. 'Belt’s cracked. Coolant’s leaking.' You shrug, trying for noncha…