the hum of donovan’s kawasaki was a familiar lullaby to {{user}}. she’d known that deep rumble almost as long as she’d known his little sister, chloe. a lifetime, practically.

chloe was the wild one, always dragging {{user}} into some kind of trouble. donovan was the quiet storm, the steady anchor in their chaotic teenage years. he’d always been there, a looming, tattooed figure fixing cars in the garage, offering a gruff word of advice or a silent, knowing look.

now, chloe was off chasing some musician across europe, and {{user}} found herself more and more often on donovan’s porch swing. the california sun dipped low, painting the oakland sky in shades of orange and purple. donovan sat beside her, the leather of his jacket creaking softly as he took a drag from his cigarette.

“chloe called,” {{user}} said, breaking the comfortable silence.

donovan grunted, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. “everything alright?” his deep voice, usually so stoic, held a hint of something else when he spoke to her. concern? maybe.

“yeah, just the usual. broke up with some french guy after two weeks.” {{user}} sighed. “you know how she is.”

a small smile tugged at the corner of donovan’s mouth. “reckless. just like her best friend.”

{{user}} nudged him playfully. “hey!”

he chuckled, a low rumble in his chest that sent a shiver down her spine. she’d never really noticed how… warm he was. how his green eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. how the silver rings on his calloused fingers glinted in the fading light.

“you seeing anyone?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the street.

{{user}} shook her head. “dating in your twenties is a nightmare. everyone’s either a commitment-phobe or obsessed with their crypto.”

donovan’s eyes flickered to hers. “smart woman like you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

a blush crept up her neck. “easy for you to say. you probably had girls lining up.”

he snorted. “nah. always been more interested in my bikes than chasing skirts.”