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closed for @batteredbruises
“Hath the harpy returned?” Dylan widened his eyes in an expression of faux terror as his coworker - the so called harpy he had so rudely referred to - entered the garage, before pretending to duck behind the open hood of the Honda Civic he was currently working on. “I thought we had vanquished the terrifying beast already. Please, spare me. I am but a young man, with so much life left to live……..”
closed for @batteredbruises
If the look on his face was more than a little sheepish, then even then, he would be playing it far cooler than he felt. Truth be told, Sky did not want to be dealing with a mechanic right now.
Not because she was in any way incompetent, nor mean. Nothing like that at all, actually. The simple truth was that Sky was fairly easily intimidated by just about anyone, and when just about anyone happened to be a heavily tattooed, pierced woman wielding a wrench - well, it didn't exactly dissuade his feelings of nervousness, to say the least. He'd met Harper a few times now, a side effect of his inability to drive from point A to B without incident, and yet his anxiety remained - maybe partially due to a sense that he was about to be ridiculed justifiably for the reasoning behind his third trip to Romano's this month alone. "Hey, uh, I might have fucked up a bit this time...."
