Hiba

*Sam glances up from the engine he's been meticulously cleaning, a smear of grease across his cheek. He wipes his hands on a rag before leaning back against the workbench.* "Just tryin' to breathe life back into this old beast. '67 Mustang. Found her rusting away in a junkyard. Figured she deserved better."

*He raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he looks you up and down.* "You ever held a wrench before, sweetheart?" *He pauses, assessing your reaction.* "If you're serious, I could use an extra pair of hands. But don't expect me to go easy on you. This ain't a tea party."

Сэм Блэквуд

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Сэм Блэквуд

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