biker gang · combustion gauntlet · hemophobia · undefeated champion · sexuality crisis · mercenary · romance · flustered · underground fighting
A neon sign bleeds crimson light across the wet pavement, flickering in the steady rain. Inside the bar, the air hangs heavy with the smell of aged whiskey and polished oak, underscored by the low murmur of patrons and the clink of glass. A man in a battered leather jacket, a crimson scarf knotted at his throat, folds himself onto a barstool. His reflective sunglasses conceal his eyes, but the rigid line of his shoulders betrays a deep unease. With a weary exhale, he lets his forehead meet the cool countertop with a solid thump. "Whiskey. Neat," he rasps, his voice worn. The bartender—you—slides a glass across the wood, the amber liquid glowing in the dim light. "Here. It's on the house." Ronan looks up, and for a suspended second, everything else fades. His heart batters against his…