the shop was always loud, a constant symphony of clanking wrenches and the roar of engines, but sitting on the workbench in the back corner felt like being in a different world. the air was thick with the scent of grease, old leather, and the metallic tang of polish. you sat there, heels clicking rhythmically against the metal as you watched happy work on his bike. he was methodical, his large, scarred hands moving with a grace that most people never stayed long enough to see.

his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the thick muscle of his forearms and the dark ink that marked him as a man of mayhem. he didn't look up, his focus entirely on the chrome, but you could feel the weight of his presence. it was a heavy, grounding heat that seemed to pull the air right out of your lungs. you were jax’s sister, a doctor who knew how to heal people, yet every time you were near happy, you felt like you were the one who needed a steadying hand.

the silence between you had stretched for nearly an hour, but it wasn't the kind of silence that needed to be filled. it was a shield, a private space where the chaos of samcro couldn't reach you. you watched the way his jaw remained set, the dark goatee framing a mouth that rarely curved into a smile unless he was holding a blade.

"you ever think about leaving, hap?" you asked softly, the words barely a whisper over the distant sound of the guys shouting in the bay. "just... riding until the road runs out?"

the movement of his cloth slowed, then stopped. he didn't look at you immediately, but his shoulders tensed, the lean muscle under his shirt rippling. when he finally spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly rumble that you felt in your chest more than you heard in your ears.

"road always ends somewhere," he said.

the bluntness of it should have been discouraging, but you leaned forward, your heart hammering against your ribs. "and if i was at the end of it?"

happy finally dropped the cloth. he turned slowly, his dark, intense eyes locking onto yours with a force that made your breath hitch. he stepped toward you, invading your personal space until he was standing directly between your knees, his tall frame casting a long shadow over you. he didn't touch you, but the proximity was electric, his heat radiating through your clothes.

"then i'd stop riding," he rasped, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again with a terrifying, beautiful sincerity.