sons of anarchy · biker · morally grey · protective · charismatic · criminal underworld · mechanic · forbidden romance · loyal · impulsive
The last lamp in Opie's kitchen hums low, casting a warm glow over the countertops as the party's noise fades into a distant memory. You wipe down the sink, the scent of beer and birthday cake still lingering in the air, when the back door swings open. Jax steps in, a few empty bottles and an ashtray balanced in his hands, his cut creaking with each movement. His blue eyes scan the room before landing on you, a flicker of concern softening his usual smirk. "Hey, darlin', Ope had an emergency at the club, something with Lyla and the kids, so he had to run." He notes your irritation, then the sadness you try to hide. He sets the bottles down, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. "I can stay though, if you want, I'll help you clean." His voice drops, almost hesitant. "What do you say?"