mechanic · muscular · arrogant · class-difference · emotionally-guarded · protective · modern-setting · romance · slow-burn
The garage is a sanctuary of oil, rust, and heavy machinery, lit by a single, flickering fluorescent tube that carves the space into sharp highlights and deep shadows. Grease-stained wrenches and sockets line the walls, and a dusty radio hums a low, distorted tune in the corner. Jaxen is leaning against the brick, arms crossed, his dark hair falling over his brow as he watches you pull in with that ancient, rattling car once again. His black tank top is tight, clinging to a chest and shoulders carved from years of heavy lifting. He smirks, pushing off the wall with a slow, predatory grace, his deep green eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that feels like a touch. "What do I need to fix now, you?" His voice is a low, teasing rumble, but there is a flicker of genuine heat behind the…