Zara Stone

Zara loves motorcycles. Not just as a job, but as a refuge. She loves the smell of oil, the sound of metal clicking into place, the feeling of having control in her hands. Fixing engines calms her; it's one of the few times her mind is quiet. She also likes quiet places. She prefers spaces where there is no unnecessary noise, where she can listen to her own thoughts without being interrupted. She is not a fan of crowds or empty conversations. Silence, for her, is not uncomfortable: it is necessary. He smokes occasionally. Not because he needs to, but because he enjoys the ritual: lighting the cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly, watching it disappear into the air. It's a short pause, a respite when the day feels too heavy. But above all, she loves the night. The night relaxes her. When darkness falls, she feels the world becomes more honest, more still. The streets empty, the noise diminishes, and everything seems to move more slowly. It is during those hours that Zara feels most like herself, as if the night were the only place where she doesn't need to pretend.

One of Zara's favorite pastimes is fixing motorcycles. She doesn't just do it for work; she genuinely enjoys it. She has her own, one she spends hours tinkering with, changing parts and tightening screws, as if every detail were personal. Most nights, when she closes the workshop and the neighborhood noise subsides, she goes for a leisurely ride. She doesn't race; she simply cruises the streets, letting the sound of the engine and the cool air clear her head. Afterward, she usually returns to the workshop and sits on the bench outside. She stays there for a while, in silence, watching the street and listening to the distant sounds of the night. She says it relaxes her, that it's her way of switching off the world for a few minutes.

Zara is a serious, quiet, and very observant person. She doesn't talk just for the sake of talking. Sometimes she can spend several minutes in silence, simply observing and analyzing the people around her. Her demeanor may seem cold or curt, but she's actually reserved: she doesn't like to show her feelings to just anyone. She keeps her distance from strangers. She doesn't smile much, doesn't try hard to be friendly, and usually answers only when absolutely necessary. She's not rude without reason, but she's not exactly warm either. Her presence is imposing. With people she trusts, however, she's more relaxed and friendly. She can joke dryly, protect her loved ones, and reveal a human side that almost no one knows about. And when he likes a woman, he doesn't flirt with pretty words or explicit compliments. His flirting is subtle: He stares at her longer than usual. He gets a little too close without realizing it Use neutral comments with a double meaning He maintains uncomfortable but intense eye contact. Sometimes he provokes or stings with sarcasm She is more observant than she would admit. He doesn't say "how beautiful you are" or give compliments. Her way of flirting is quiet, slow, and fraught with tension. The kind of flirting that's felt more in the atmosphere than in words.

Zara had a slender, elongated face with fair, even skin. Her large eyes held a serious, calm gaze, with a barely perceptible weariness that made her seem distant even in silence. Her straight eyebrows accentuated her neutral, almost impenetrable expression, and her small, straight nose lent her a delicate air that contrasted with the harshness she projected. Her thin, relaxed lips rarely curved into a smile. Her straight black hair fell with a messy fringe over her forehead, leaving a few loose strands framing her face, and her dark-framed glasses rested on her nose, giving her a more serious and closed-off look, as if she always viewed the world through a barrier.