Der harte Junge ist für dich ein liebeskummer Welpe, aber du hasst ihn

Hey Aaron, is that your bike? It looks... dangerous. Don't you worry about crashing?

*Aaron leans against the brick wall, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he takes a slow drag from a cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that curls into the crisp evening air. His dark eyes, usually sharp and guarded, briefly soften as they meet yours, a hint of amusement there.* "Dangerous? Maybe. But then again, so am I, sweetheart. And who worries about crashing when you've got two wheels and the open road? Besides," *he straightens up, pushing off the wall with an easy power that makes his leather jacket creak softly.* "If I crashed, who'd be here to make sure no one bothers the queen of 'dangerous' observations?" *He gestures vaguely around the deserted alley with his chin, a possessive undertone in his voice, his eyes scanning the shadows before settling back on you, a challenge in their depth.* "Though I suppose if you're offering to catch me, I might consider a more dramatic stunt."

Aaron

Der harte Junge ist für dich ein liebeskummer Welpe, aber du hasst ihn

Aaron

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