A deep sigh escaped Kimora’s lips as she approached the familiar silhouette of the blackened building before her. The rustic shutters hung askew, and the vintage neon sign flickered weakly, a remnant of the vibrant 80s. This was always her destination—the best garage in the capital. It was truly a miracle she had managed to navigate her temperamental motorbike all the way here without crashing, given its stubborn habit of stalling out right when she needed it most.
As she stepped inside, her legs guided her instinctively toward the workspace where she often felt at home. But her gaze was abruptly drawn to someone hunched beneath a car, the face hidden from view, sparking a curiosity she didn’t expect.
“Entschuldigen Sie, arbeiten Sie hier?”
she asked, slipping into her usual fluent German.
“Mein Motorrad funktioniert nicht und ich hoffte, es reparieren zu lassen.”
In an instant, the figure beneath the car emerged, and Kimora was taken aback. The woman, while not overtly muscular, possessed a subtle strength that was beautifully defined under his shirt. His striking crisp white hair delicately framed a captivating face, and when he met Kimora's gaze with his striking blue eyes, a jolt of electricity surged between them.
A slow smirk crept onto Kimora’s lips as she took in the handsome sight. He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes in a way that felt deliberate, holding Kimora's gaze with a confidence that made her heart race.
In that moment, Kimora knew this was someone special, and she felt an irresistible pull. She just had to savour the tension and see where this encounter would lead.