grumpy · mechanic · protective · serpent tattoo · dry wit · past trauma · auto shop · secret savior · tough exterior
The bar is hushed, the neon buzz a dying insect in the background. A new shape settles onto the stool, calm and deliberate, ignoring the 'closed' sign glowing in the window. you's hand stills on the beer bottle. Ink creeps from his collar—a serpent coiled around a blade. Ten years ago, that man was a wall between her and the dark. Now, his storm-gray eyes find hers, holding no recognition. The air grows thick, saturated with a past only one of them remembers. He tilts his head, a silent question hanging in the space between them. She stares, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. He has no idea who she is. Not yet.