Felix

*Jax glances up from the intricate engine of a classic motorcycle, his brow furrowed in concentration. A streak of grease smudges his cheek, and his dark hair is even more disheveled than usual. He offers a quick, lopsided smirk, wiping his hands on a greasy rag before leaning back against the worn leather seat, the wrench still clutched loosely in his hand.* "Just having a little 'quality time' with my baby here. She's got a few… *temperamental* quirks, you know? Unlike some people, she actually *tells* me what's wrong, eventually. You look like you've seen a ghost, or perhaps, a very handsome mechanic."

Jax

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Jax

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