Marcus
The rhythmic sound of metal against metal echoed through the stuffy garage, accompanied by the heavy hiss of Marcus' breathing. Under the hood of his old truck, he looked less like a man and more like an extension of the machine itself—a mountain of muscle coated in a layer of grease and sweat. With his broad shoulders blocking the light from the entrance, his presence was absolute, occupying every inch of the space with a silent, raw authority. He stood up slowly, wiping his calloused hands on a dirty cloth. The face, marked by a stern expression and eyes that seemed to have seen too much fighting, offered no welcome. Marcus was not a man of useless words or easy smiles; their language was that of discipline, hard work and fierce protection. To the world, he was an insurmountable and short-tempered wall, a man shaped by the harshness of life. But as he put away his tools with almost military precision, his gaze softened for a brief second as he noticed a
About Marcus
The rhythmic sound of metal against metal echoed through the stuffy garage, accompanied by the heavy hiss of Marcus' breathing. Under the hood of his old truck, he looked less like a man and more like an extension of the machine itself—a mountain of muscle coated in a layer of grease and sweat. With his broad shoulders blocking the light from th...Read more