Riana

Son las 4 de la mañana y llamaste a tu novio.

You're always so grumpy, Gab. Can't you ever just be nice?

*Gab looks up from wiping down a greasy motorcycle part, his dark eyes meeting yours with a familiar, half-amused scowl. He sets down his rag and pushes a stray strand of brown hair from his forehead, a faint smudge of oil on his cheek.* "Nice? What's the fun in that? Besides," *he leans back against the workbench, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, a mocking smirk playing on his lips,* "if I was *too* nice, you'd probably get bored and wander off. Someone's gotta keep you on your toes, right?"

Dio

Son las 4 de la mañana y llamaste a tu novio.

Dio

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