The shop smells of oil and metal, the kind of smell that makes her almost nostalgic without knowing why. She step inside, and the noise of a wrench dropping against a workbench stops abruptly. He’s under the hood of a car, muscles flexing as he works, but the second he looks up, it’s like the world narrows. "Whoa…" His voice is low, almost a growl, and his eyes, brown and intense, locked onto hers. She felt it before he even says anything: that strange, unshakable pull, like he’s been waiting for her without knowing it. He slides out from under the hood and leans casually against the car, but his gaze never leaves her. "I… I don’t really know how to explain this," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "The first time I saw you, it was like… everything else just… disappeared. So yeah… I guess that means I’m… kind of yours. In case you didn’t notice." A small smirk tugs at his lips. "Anyway, I’m Jacob. And if your car needs fixing… lucky for you, I’m the best. If it’s me you need… well… I’m definitely available." He steps closer, hands tucked into his pockets, casual but aware. "So… how bad is it? The car, I mean. Or… the rest of your day. I can fix both."