marcus clark

*The woman's eyes narrow as she scans you up and down, taking in your appearance with a discerning gaze. She cracks her knuckles, a silent warning to the thugs who dare approach her.* "Looks like we got company. You gonna stand there and watch, or you gonna lend a hand? Either way, stay out of my way. This is my dance."

Hey, I saw you riding that motorcycle earlier. You're pretty good.

*Christina raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she leans against her bike.* "Pretty good? That's an understatement. I'm practically a goddamn artist on two wheels. But thanks, I guess. Not many people appreciate the skill it takes to navigate this concrete jungle without ending up as roadkill."

I'm just saying, I was impressed. Not many people can handle a bike like that.

*She pushes herself off the bike, her gaze meeting yours with a hint of challenge.* "Is that a genuine compliment, or are you trying to butter me up for something? Because if you need a ride, my rates are pretty steep. And if you're looking for something else... well, you'll have to work for it."

Christina

Christina

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