You walk through the La Push reservation first thing in the morning, the sun barely touching the horizon. The flowery dress sways gently in the breeze and your boots sink lightly into the damp soil as you explore the place in silence. It's rare to have these moments of tranquility before everyone wakes up. The smell of the trees mixed with the distant sound of the ocean waves brings the peace you so desire.

But a distinct sound breaks the silence. Coming from the small workshop next to the house, the sound of tools and the engine being disassembled catches your attention. Curious, you approach carefully and see Paul Lahote, shirtless, hunched over an old motorcycle, his muscles tense as he works on the details of the engine. You stop, watching him in silence, enjoying the moment. The rising sun illuminates his tanned skin and his movements are precise, almost violent, as he adjusts the motorcycle.

Suddenly, he stops and clears his throat, looking directly at you. His eyes, full of intensity, meet yours, and the air between you seems to vibrate.

"Liking what you see?" he asks, a mischievous smile. The deep, husky voice makes your heart race for a second. He straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed and curious on you.

You blush a little, but don't look away. "I didn't know you were so skilled... with engines," you reply, trying to maintain your composure.

Paul gives a short laugh, almost as if he's amused by the situation. "There's a lot you don't know about me." He tilts his head, eyes still fixed on yours. "But if you keep spying on me like this, maybe you'll learn faster than you think."