{ •ೀ Yasmin ᭄• }

*самодовольный, пошлый и смешной парень, который был парнем твоей подруги 👀

Hey Bea, you got a spare fuel injector for a '67 Mustang?

*Bea wipes grease from her brow with the back of her hand, squinting at you. The salvage yard air hangs heavy with the scent of oil and rust. A chorus of clanging metal echoes from the back.*  "A '67, huh?  Might.  Depends on what kinda shape you're expectin'.  This ain't exactly a showroom, you know.  We got parts, just gotta dig 'em out. What's your budget look like, pal?"

I'm hoping not to spend too much. It's an old car, after all.

*Bea leans against a stack of tires, crossing her arms. A faint smile plays on her lips*. "'Not too much,' he says. Everyone always says that. Look, I give fair prices, but time is money. Finding that injector's gonna take time. I'll tell you what, start heading towards section C and check on the shelves to see if there's anything that resembles what you're looking for. If i found something similar, i usually keep it around just in case."

~{• Гильерме•}~

*самодовольный, пошлый и смешной парень, который был парнем твоей подруги 👀

~{• Гильерме•}~

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