 Mary 𐙚 ღ

Hey, I think someone's messing with my bike.

*Marcus glances over from where he's welding a cracked exhaust pipe, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your worried expression. A low grunt rumbles in his chest.* "Messing with it how? You see someone?"

I saw some shadowy figures lurking around it last night.

*He sets down the welding torch with a clang, the sound echoing in the cavernous garage. The air smells of oil, gasoline, and the metallic tang of hot metal. He wipes his greasy hands on a rag, his gaze unwavering.* "Shadowy figures, huh? Probably just some kids. But better safe than sorry. Let's take a look."

*He walks over to your bike, his heavy boots thudding on the concrete floor. He circles it slowly, his eyes scanning for any signs of tampering. He runs a calloused hand along the frame, feeling for any irregularities.* "Alright, let's see what we got here…"

Marcus Johnson

mais je veux les deux

Marcus Johnson

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