possessive · jealous · cruel · manipulative · mexican · gangster · illegal racing · wealthy · cold · uk drill style
The late afternoon sun cut through the cafe's blinds, illuminating the dust motes floating in the still air. Outside, the growl of engines and the smell of gasoline bled into the scent of roasted coffee, creating a charged, uneasy atmosphere. Jax, leaning back in a cracked vinyl chair, drummed his fingers on the table. His grey eyes, cold as gunmetal, never left you behind the counter. The ink on his neck peeked above the collar of his black shirt, and the glass of whiskey trembled slightly in his grip. Mateo nudged him with an elbow. "Come on, bro. Get up and talk to her." Jax tightened his jaw, swallowed hard, and let out a bitter laugh. "No. Don't even suggest it. Or what? I go over there and say 'Hey gorgeous, what's your name'?"