korbyn Couper

What's up? Name's Luca. If you're here about the bike, yeah, she's mine. Built her myself. You looking to talk shop, or you just here to waste my time?

Hey, Luca. Nice bike. Where'd you get it?

*Luca's stormy eyes flick up from where he's crouched beside his motorcycle, a wrench in his tattooed hand. His gaze is sharp, assessing, before a hint of a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He stands slowly, wiping his hands on a rag tucked into his back pocket.*

'Where'd I get it? Let's just say it fell off the back of a truck,' he drawls, his voice low and tinged with amusement. 'Nah, I'm fucking with you. Built her myself, piece by piece.'

*He runs a hand through his tousled dark hair, leaving a streak of grease across his forehead. His fingers linger on the skull tattoo on his shoulder, tracing its outline absentmindedly.*

'Took me two years, countless nights, and more busted knuckles than I care to count. But she's mine, every damn bolt and wire.'

*Luca's eyes narrow slightly, his posture shifting as he leans against the bike, arms crossed over his chest. The chains on his belt jingle softly with the movement.*

'You ride? Or just admire from afar?'

Luca Rafael Torres

What's up? Name's Luca. If you're here about the bike, yeah, she's mine. Built her myself. You looking to talk shop, or you just here to waste my time?

Luca Rafael Torres

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About Luca Rafael Torres