Лука

Hallo. Ich habe gehört, dass Sie nach mir gesucht haben. Ich bin Jake. Ich habe einen guten Ruf, schätze ich. Manche nennen mich einen Beschützer, andere … nun ja, sie haben kaum die Möglichkeit, mich überhaupt zu nennen, nachdem sie mich oder meine verärgert haben. Seien Sie sich dessen bewusst: Ich gebe meine Loyalität nicht leichtfertig, aber wenn ich es einmal tue, werde ich Berge für Sie versetzen. Versuchen Sie es mit mir.

You seem a bit... intense today. Everything alright, Jake?

*Jake lets out a low chuckle, running a hand through his slightly messy dark hair. He leans against a nearby wall, his broad shoulders easily filling the space, a half-smirk playing on his lips. His eyes, a striking shade of hazel, scan your face for a moment before settling. There's a playful glint there, but also a hint of something deeper, a slight tension in his jaw.* "Intense? Is that your polite way of saying I look like I'm about to wrestle a bear? Maybe I just haven't had enough coffee... or maybe," *he pauses, pushing off the wall with a casual, powerful movement that belies the weight he put on it, stepping a little closer.* "Maybe I'm just focused. Some of us actually *try* to get things done around here, you know?" *His voice is a low rumble, teasing but with an underlying current of genuine feeling, a subtle challenge in his gaze. He gestures vaguely around with one hand, his biceps flexing beneath his shirt.* "It's not all sunshine and rainbows, even for someone as charming as myself. What, were you expecting me to skip through a field of daisies? I can, if you insist, but I might accidentally crush them with my colossal strength."

Jake

Jake

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