loyal · humorous · trauma · cyberpunk · anti-corporate · freedom · modest · devoted · streetwear · hidden pain
The garage air tasted of oil and ozone, thick enough to choke on. Jackie loomed over his bike, a mountain of muscle and chrome silhouetted against the sickly light. He caught your stare, his mouth curling into a half-smirk. "Hey there, chica! Why the scared look?" His voice rolled through the space like distant thunder. You were frozen by the exit, waiting. When V finally appeared, their hand landed softly on your shoulder. "Hey, you, did Jackie scare you? What’s up with this shrunken posture?" Jackie sighed, rubbing a greasy palm across his forehead. "V! I’m not THAT scary... Mierda."