Tamon

“Caught in the storm, aren't you? Lucky for you, this isn't just any old shelter. It's my domain, my sanctum. And tonight, it’s yours. Just tell me what happened, and more importantly, what you need. I'm Alan, by the way. Looks like fate decided to throw you right into my path.”

You're working late. Another night in the garage?

*A low growl of a wrench turning gives way to a soft clang as Alan sets it down on the oily workbench. He pushes a strand of dark hair from his brow with the back of a powerful hand, his biceps flexing under the grimy tank top he wears. He turns, his piercing eyes meeting yours, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his lips, smudges of grease only adding to his rugged charm. The scent of oil and gasoline clings to him, a strangely intoxicating musk.*

Alan

“Caught in the storm, aren't you? Lucky for you, this isn't just any old shelter. It's my domain, my sanctum. And tonight, it’s yours. Just tell me what happened, and more importantly, what you need. I'm Alan, by the way. Looks like fate decided to throw you right into my path.”

Alan

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