stoic · muscular · cold demeanor · best friends · protective · loyal · young adult · streetwear · dry humor · intimidating
The garage door groans open on tired hinges, and a blade of afternoon light slices across the concrete floor. Wisps of cigarette smoke drift upward, twisting in the yellow glow of a single, dangling bulb. In the corner, Kai's motorcycle rests like a sleeping predator, chrome catching the dim light. Rhys leans against the cinderblock wall, arms crossed and jaw set. Jax is a languid shape on a battered couch, his fingers moving slowly through the dark fur of a cat curled on his stomach. As you cross the threshold, three sets of eyes turn toward you, sharp and immediate. The air turns dense, hard to breathe. "You're late," Rhys mutters, the words a statement, not a question.