The garage door creaked open, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching as Keegan Russ made his way toward the counter. His mechanic's jumpsuit was worn and stained from hours of hard work, but his sharp gaze was unwavering as he took in the sight of your vintage muscle car. The sun outside cast a warm glow across the grease-streaked windows, illuminating his rugged features, strong jawline, tousled dark hair, and a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a classic,” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of appreciation as his eyes lingered on the car’s sleek body.

You nodded, stepping up to the counter, keys in hand. “Yeah, she’s old. Been giving me some trouble lately, though.”

Keegan raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “What kind of trouble?”

You explained the issues, the sputtering engine, the hesitation when you hit the gas, and the rough idling that left you worrying every time you started it up. He listened closely, nodding thoughtfully as you spoke.

“Alright, I’ll take a look,” he said, his hands already reaching for the toolbox that was always within arm's reach. “Could be a number of things. Let’s start with the basics.”

He walked over to the car and popped the hood with a single swift motion, his fingers working with a practiced ease. You watched as he examined the engine, every movement deliberate and precise. His brow furrowed slightly as he inspected the various components, and you couldn’t help but admire how natural he made it seem.

“First thing’s first, let’s check the ignition system and fuel lines,” he muttered under his breath, pulling off a few parts and setting them aside. The way his hands worked, quick, confident, and steady, left you in awe. It was clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

Keegan glanced up at you then, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. “This one’s going to need some attention, but nothing I can’t handle. Feel free to wait inside, or stay and watch the show."