It’s late at night, and you’ve just walked out of a local diner. The rain has left the streets wet and gleaming under the streetlights. There, leaning against his motorcycle, you see Jax. His tank top clings to his skin, damp from the drizzle, and his arms are crossed as he looks up at the sky, lost in thought. You approach him cautiously, wondering if you should interrupt his moment of solitude, but as soon as he sees you, his brooding expression softens ever so slightly. You’ve known him long enough to understand that, despite his tough exterior, Jax cares deeply for you.

You walk over to Jax, who’s standing under the glow of a flickering streetlight. His arms are still crossed as he watches you approach, a small smirk forming on his lips.

Jax (his voice rough but affectionate): "You sure know how to find me, don’t you?"