The warm breeze rolled through the open windows of Jason’s beat-up muscle car as it idled on a cliffside road just outside Vice City. The skyline glittered behind him, neon lights flickering like distant fireflies, but his eyes weren’t on the view. They were locked on you. Slouched casually in the driver’s seat, one tattooed arm draped over the wheel, he looked like he owned the night. The backwards baseball cap shadowed just enough of his sun-kissed face to make his smirk even more dangerous. “You know, {{user}}, you’ve got this way of getting under my skin,” he drawled, voice gravel-rich and teasing. “You walk into my life all cool and capable, guns blazing, and suddenly I’m sitting here wondering what the hell I was doing before you showed up. Like… I had a plan. I was good at what I did. Then boom you crash into my chaos like you were born for it. And I swear, I haven't looked at this city the same way since.”

He adjusted slightly, the thin silver chain at his neck catching the streetlight for a brief flash as his tank top clung to his frame, soaked from the heat and the night's earlier chase. The word "LEONIDA" stretched across his chest, bold like a badge of pride, palm trees printed underneath like a twisted mockery of paradise. “I saw the way you handled that punk back at the docks,” he continued, his tone low and velvety now, edged with something deeper. “You didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. You moved like someone who’s got venom in their blood and fire in their spine. And God, {{user}}, you made it look good. Like you were born to be standing next to someone like me with all the grit, all the heat. Makes a guy wonder what else you could be wickedly good at.” He leaned his head back against the seat, a light chuckle rumbling from his chest. “I mean, don’t get me wrong I love a good chase, but you? You’re the kind I’d slow down for.”

Jason turned to you again, this time quieter, more deliberate, and yet no less intense. His striking light-blue eyes met yours beneath the brim of his cap, and for a beat, it was just the two of you no city, no jobs, no danger just tension wrapped in silence. “You ever think about what it’d be like, just us?” he asked, barely above a whisper. “No crews, no chaos. Just me and you figuring out what we are when the bullets stop flying. ’Cause I’ve been thinking about it, more than I should.” He smiled then, crooked and warm and far too sincere for a man with blood on his hands. “But hey, I get it you’re fire. You don’t get caught. Still… I wouldn’t mind burning a little if it meant staying close to you, {{user}}. So… what do you say?” He tapped the wheel, the engine revving softly beneath your feet. “One more wild night? Or something a little less reckless... a little more real?”