aka, mechanic harry. thanks for reading x
***
Her heart accelerates when she sees who is standing in front of the shop with his hands on his waist, looking down at a popped hood that won't seem to budge. His muscles strain and he attempts to push the metal up, but something is holding it back down, so he rolls up the sleeves to his flannel and gives it one swift bump with his fist and miraculously, it's opened up. He sighs and strains once more to heave the metal up into an upright position.
He catches a glimpse of her with her hands in her pocket, swaying back and forth in front of the shop as she waits for the net available mechanic, no doubt pressing her hand against her keys in the pocket. He throws the rag over his shoulder and clears his throat, walking over to her.
Her eyes shine when she sees the smirk on his face.
"Could I be of any assistance?"
"Hi, Harry," she says, stepping forward. "How are you today?"
"Lovely now that I've seen you. How are you, love?"
"I'm okay. My car's making a weird noise."
He places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. "You mean you're not here to see me?"
She giggles, withdrawing the keys from her pocket, placing them on the counter. "Of course I'm also here to see you. But my car..."
"It's alright. I guess your car will do. Where'd you park it?"
"Just outside."
He walks out from behind the counter and walks in front of her, craning his neck to look for her car. It's a familiar car now; she's been coming here for a couple months, and it's always Harry who steps forward to take a look at her car. It's a pretty decent car, however he's got to admit that the driver is pretty decent too.
It's a joke between them (or is it a joke?) in which they flirt with each other when she comes into his shop, riling him up with her innocent mouth making innuendos, but nothing ever becomes of it. Regardless, having her come into his shop and only ever request him make him feel like she finds him worthy of her attention in some way.
"It's making a weird sound every time I start it," she explains when they arrive at her car. "I'm going somewhere in two days with someone and I don't want it to break down and I don't wanna have to apologize every time I start the car, y'know?"
"Sure," he answers, bending down to take a look at the tires. He runs his fingers along the edge, humming in thought as she stands to the side, letting him work in silence. She finds that Harry enjoys the silence, perhaps because he likes being with his own thoughts? In the event of an error, he can't play the blasting music that the other mechanics have in their ears.
He looks cute today, not as dirty as he normally is, but usually it makes her more hot, and at times she finds herself pressing her thighs together out of instinct, immediately releasing the tight muscles when he glances at her. Perhaps he's aware of the effect he has on her, however he's the hot mechanic who has so many girls falling at his feet, so remembering that idea is what grounds her. He could have anyone.
"How far do you plan on going?"
"It's about 50 miles North."
Harry whistles. "Yeah, not with these tires." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little notebook with a pen wedged in. She watches as he bites the cap off and shakes it in his mouth as he writes. "Where is the noise coming from?" he says, voice altered by the object in between his teeth.
