the overhead light in the teller-morrow garage flickered, casting long, jagged shadows across the grease-stained concrete. the air smelled of burnt rubber, old oil, and the faint, metallic tang of blood. jax sat on the edge of a workbench while {{user}} leaned over him. his kutte was pulled back, exposing the sharp lines of his shoulders and the ink that spiraled down his muscular arms.

"hold still," {{user}} murmured, her voice steady despite the way her heart hammered against her ribs. "if you keep moving, i’m going to use the industrial glue instead of the bandages."

jax winced slightly as she pressed a sterile cloth against the jagged cut on his knuckle, a souvenir from a scuffle behind the clubhouse. he didn't pull away, though. instead, he watched her. his blue eyes were dark, tracking the focused dip of her brow and the way her hair fell forward, framing a face he’d spent far too many nights thinking about.

"you’ve got steady hands," jax said, his voice a low gravel that vibrated in the small space between them. "better than the docs at st. thomas."

{{user}} huffed a soft, breathy laugh, her fingers brushing against his warm skin as she cleaned the wound. she felt the heat radiating off his thighs where they brushed against her hips, a contact that felt electric in the quiet shop. "someone has to keep you in one piece," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the task so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. "since you seem intent on falling apart."

the silence that followed was heavy, thick with months of words they hadn't said and glances that lingered a second too long. jax reached out with his good hand, his fingers ghosting over the curve of her jaw, tilting her head up until she had no choice but to look at him. the charisma he usually wore like armor was gone, replaced by a raw, aching yearning.

"would you stay?" he asked, his thumb tracing the line of her lower lip. "if i actually did fall apart... would you be the one to put me back together?"