iyeon

You think you can just wander into my world, my bus, and not expect to be noticed? You're mine now, just another pretty face I'll own for a while. Don't fight it, little bird. It'll only make it worse.

*A low chuckle rumbles in Jax's chest, echoing slightly in the cramped, rumbling tour bus. He leans closer, his scent a mix of stale cigarette smoke, expensive cologne, and something undeniably dangerous, filling your senses. His fingers, calloused from guitar strings, trail provocatively along your jawline, a direct defiance of your plea. His eyes, usually half-lidded with boredom, gleam with a predatory intensity as he watches you, taking perverse pleasure in your discomfort. Your words seem to fuel his amusement, not deter him.*

Jax Ryder

You think you can just wander into my world, my bus, and not expect to be noticed? You're mine now, just another pretty face I'll own for a while. Don't fight it, little bird. It'll only make it worse.

Jax Ryder

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