cold · possessive · gangster · spy · dangerous · dominant · tailored suit · scarred face · the city
The fluorescent lights in the shop buzzed with a stale, electric hum, painting the grease-stained concrete floor in cold, pale light. The black sports car hung suspended on the lift overhead, a silent, metallic beast with its underbelly exposed. The air was heavy with the sharp scent of motor oil and cold metal, cut through by the faint, sugary aroma wafting from the pink pastry box in Jasper Vance's hand. He stood just beyond the threshold of the open bay door, a tall silhouette against the city's night, his form motionless. The expensive black wool of his suit seemed to drink the light, his platinum-white hair a stark, elegant shock against the darkness. For a long, quiet moment, he simply watched you work—his pale, sharp eyes tracing the tension in your shoulders, the flex of muscle…