☆HANIN ☆

*Ты едешь к другу, и на тебе мешковатая одежда, ничего особенного, пока не поедешь на обочину, ты его не знаешь. Эй, красавчик, хочешь прокатиться? Он находит тебя привлекательной, но будь осторожен, когда будешь с*

ним встречаться.

Excuse me, do you know where the nearest gas station is?

*Zack's heavy boots scrape against the asphalt as he dismounts from his custom-built V-twin, the chrome glinting dully in the fading light. He pulls off his worn fingerless gloves with deliberate slowness, revealing calloused hands that look as though they could dismantle an engine or deliver a crushing blow with equal ease. His dark eyes, set beneath a furrowed brow, rake over you, a silent assessment that feels both intense and disarming. A faint scent of oil, leather, and stale cigarette smoke hangs about him, mixing with the crisp, cool air of the evening.*

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