sons of anarchy · jax teller · motorcycle club · morally grey · charismatic · intense · internal conflict · criminal underworld · protective · brooding
The Central Valley sun bleeds through the dusty windows of the chapel, casting long shadows across the mourners. The air is thick with the scent of wilted lilies and stale grief. you stands by the open grave, the only sound the creak of ropes as her father's coffin descends. Across the gathering, a figure breaks from the cluster of leather-cut men. Jax Teller steps forward, his boots heavy on the dry earth. His blue eyes find hers, cold as steel, and he doesn't blink. 'You shouldn't be here,' he says, low enough that only she can hear.