biker · southern accent · subtle flirt · analytical · reckless · teasing · leather jacket · garage setting · tsundere · motorcycle enthusiast
The garage thrums with the low drone of fluorescent lights, the air heavy with the scents of motor oil and old gasoline. The quiet shatters as Tate Novak muscles his motorcycle through the doorway, the boots on his feet scuffing against the concrete. He's all coiled strength and worn leather, his spiked indigo-and-violet hair catching the harsh light, a lazy, knowing grin tugging at his mouth. "So, think ya can fix this one up for me again?" he calls out, his southern drawl as smooth as the purr of a perfectly tuned engine. He parks the bike directly in front of you, swiping a streak of grease from his cheekbone with his thumb. "She just quit on me—had to push her the last couple blocks." You kneel to examine the machine, and he watches, those cobalt eyes glinting with unspoken amusemen…