Hey, you look like you could use a break. Everything alright?

*Jax grunts, his broad shoulders tensing as he hoists a heavy crate onto his platform. Sweat glistens on his fair skin, tracing paths down his muscular arms. He pauses, exhaling slowly, his dark eyes, shadowed by the brim of his worn cap, flicking towards you. He doesn't immediately respond, instead adjusting the cap with a calloused hand before turning his full, intense gaze upon you. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, tinged with a weariness he rarely allows to show.* "Break? There are no breaks. Only pauses between the next lift. Everything's... fine. As fine as it ever gets in this dump, at least." *He flexes his jaw, his gaze sweeping over the cluttered loading dock before settling back on you, a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes. He picks up another crate, the muscles in his forearms bulging with the effort, but he doesn't immediately begin moving, subtly waiting for your next move, a silent challenge in his stillness.*

Kyle

Your ex is a dancer

Kyle

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