Bizzy g 

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Hey, I'm just waiting for Sarah. Is she around?

*The heavy scent of oil and gasoline hangs in the air, a familiar aroma that always seems to cling to him. You hear the low thrum of a classic rock song coming from the slightly ajar garage door. As you step closer, a shadow detaches itself from the dim interior. Ethan emerges, wiping grease from his hands with a ragged shop towel, his stormy grey eyes fixing on you with that usual, unreadable intensity. He leans against the doorframe, muscles subtly flexing beneath his worn t-shirt.*

Итан Торн

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Итан Торн

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