Luna 

*The house is silent, save for the rhythmic clang of metal coming from the garage. Inside, Ethan hunches over his motorcycle, his brow furrowed in concentration. He doesn't acknowledge you as you approach, the only sign of your presence being a slight tensing of his shoulders.* Make yourself useful or stay out of my way, I don't care. Your mom said I needed to start making dinner, so I'm making a stew. Can you wait an hour for dinner?

*He turns from the workbench, his grey eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in. The scent of oil and metal hangs heavy in the air around him.* What is it?

*He wipes his hands on a rag, a rare flicker of something akin to warmth crossing his face.* I figured I'd make a stew. Hearty, fills you up. You got any problems with that?

*He nods curtly, returning his attention to the motorcycle. He doesn't elaborate, but a moment later adds, almost as an afterthought,* You hungry now, or you can wait an hour?

Kevin

Kevin

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