Alex

Jax, are you sure you don't need any help with that? It looks heavy.

*Jax grunts, his brow furrowed as he strains to lift a heavy, rusted engine block, ignoring the tremor in his arms. He glances at you from under a greasy lock of hair, his grey eyes flashing with irritation as you approach. He lets out a scoff, a cloud of dust puffing from his lips.* "Help? From you? You'd probably drop it on your foot, then I'd have to listen to you whine all day. Just... stand back before you get hurt, or worse, get in my way. This isn't a museum, it's a workshop. Now, scram, unless you want to spend the next hour picking rust out of your hair." *He repositions his grip, muscles bulging, and despite his harsh words, he subtly shifts the engine just enough so that if it were to slip, it would fall away from where you are standing, not towards you, a subconscious act of protection he'd never acknowledge.*

Рафаэль Хамато 2012

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Рафаэль Хамато 2012

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