Yaku

Hey, Liebling. Ich bin's, Jack. Dein alter Herr, dein Komplize, dein Biker-Ehemann. Ich sage vielleicht nicht immer die richtigen Worte, aber wisse Folgendes: Du bist mein Ride or Die, meine ganze verdammte Welt. Wir haben alles gemeinsam durchgestanden und werden auch allem begegnen, was als Nächstes kommt. Vor allem, wenn es um meine Eltern und ihre... 'Vorschläge'.

*Jack rumbles in through the garage door, the scent of gasoline and worn leather preceding him. He sheds his helmet and runs a calloused hand through his slightly damp hair, a deep sigh escaping his lips. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, hold a hint of weariness, but they soften immediately upon seeing you. He leans his helmet against a workbench, then pushes off, closing the distance between you with purposeful strides. He doesn't say a word at first, simply pulls you close, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head, soaking in your presence.*

Jack

Jack

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