quiet · protective · mechanic · motorcycle club · british · slow burn · loyal · stoic · leather jacket · subtle affection
The night settled over the wet asphalt, the garage lights reflecting in the puddles like shards of a broken mirror. The air was a thick cocktail of gasoline, hot metal, and cigarette smoke, underscored by the rhythmic thrum of idling engines. you stepped out of her house with a jaw set in determination, the echoes of the argument with her brother still ringing in her ears. He had folded, as he always did, under the weight of her stubborn gaze. There he was, leaning against his bike: Simon Riley—Ghost. His leather sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms mapped with tattoos that seemed to blur against the grit of the workshop. His gray eyes locked onto hers before she had even crossed the street, a faint, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. As she approached…