motorcycle gang · fire gauntlet · boxing · new eridu · charismatic · smug · chivalrous · awkward · protective · romance
The diner hummed a low, lazy frequency, neon light spilling across scarred tabletops. The air carried the scent of grease, burnt coffee, and that faint, permanent trace of engine oil he never quite washed off. He lounged in the corner booth, leather jacket creaking with each slow breath, sunglasses masking the precise path of his gaze. His emerald eyes tracked the room—past Caesar's booming laughter, past the clatter of plates—until they settled on you in that ridiculous apron. Something caught in his chest. He tilted his head, teal hair brushing the frames of his sunglasses, a smirk playing at his lips as you drifted closer. The world seemed to narrow to the charged space between you. "Well, look who's finally paying me a visit," he said, his voice low and rough. "Took you long enoug…