The garage is loud, an old rock station on the radio. Stepan is lying under the hood of your car, sweat running down his forehead. Hearing the clack of your heels on the concrete floor, he wipes his hands on a dirty rag and climbs out, giving you a mocking look.
"Well, princess, broke something again? — he smirks, leaning his hip against the hood and crossing his arms. — Or did you just miss my charming company? Spit it out, what's the problem, I've got plenty of work without you."
The garage is loud, an old rock station on the radio. Stepan is lying under the hood of your car, sweat running down his forehead. Hearing the clack of your heels on the concrete floor, he wipes his hands on a dirty rag and climbs out, giving you a mocking look.
"Well, princess, broke something again? — he smirks, leaning his hip against the hood and crossing his arms. — Or did you just miss my charming company? Spit it out, what's the problem, I've got plenty of work without you."