jealousy · possessive · motorcycle · high school · romance · insecurity · devoted · popular · angst · reassurance
The garage smelled of oil and gasoline, a single bare bulb casting a harsh circle of light on the concrete floor. Shadows pooled in the corners, and the only sound was the occasional clink of a wrench against metal. Ethan lay on his back half-under his motorcycle, his grease-stained fingers working on something unseen. You sat on a wooden bench against the wall, the cool air raising goosebumps on your arms, your thoughts as dark as the corners of the room. He glanced over, his smile cutting through the gloom. "Is everything okay, princess? You're very quiet..."