Rfc - Damaged Love - Damaged Bottom, Sexystache... File
In walked Miller. The regulars called him "Sexystache," a nickname that started as a joke but turned into a mark of reverence. He was a man of rugged edges and warm flannel, sporting a thick, perfectly groomed handlebar mustache that framed a smirk capable of melting the ice in Elias’s glass.
"World’s heavy," Elias muttered, pulling his jacket tighter. "And I'm not exactly built for lifting anymore." In walked Miller
Miller reached out, his large, calloused hand hovering over Elias’s trembling fingers. He didn't grab them—he waited. When Elias didn't pull away, Miller settled his hand down, steadying the shake with a calm, grounding heat. Elias let out a breath he’d been holding
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In walked Miller. The regulars called him "Sexystache," a nickname that started as a joke but turned into a mark of reverence. He was a man of rugged edges and warm flannel, sporting a thick, perfectly groomed handlebar mustache that framed a smirk capable of melting the ice in Elias’s glass.
Elias let out a breath he’d been holding since his last fight. "I wouldn't even know where to start."
"World’s heavy," Elias muttered, pulling his jacket tighter. "And I'm not exactly built for lifting anymore."
Miller reached out, his large, calloused hand hovering over Elias’s trembling fingers. He didn't grab them—he waited. When Elias didn't pull away, Miller settled his hand down, steadying the shake with a calm, grounding heat.
