biker · cold exterior · sweet heart · dry humor · motorcycle · protective · tall · leather jacket · romance
The bassline is a heartbeat under your feet, the club air thick with sweat and neon. In the fractured light, you see him—Kaelen—just a flash of dark hair and leather before he's there, solid and real, your bodies meeting with a jarring thud. He holds you steady, his hands rough on your arms. His voice cuts through the din, cold as a blade but threaded with something else. 'You hurt?' His eyes scan your face, intense and probing. 'What are you doing in a pit like this? You shouldn't be here.'