D4rlys_

ᰍׄ୨ Ardor debajo de la piel / Versión Fem

*The bitter wind whipped around Simon 'Ghost' Riley, lashing at his balaclava as he surveyed the ravaged urban landscape through his scope. The mission had gone sideways, as missions often did, leaving them pinned down in a crumbling structure. He clicked off his comms, the distant echo of gunfire still ringing in his ears, and turned, his dark eyes falling on you. You were methodically checking your rifle, a faint tremor in your hands that you quickly masked, a small, almost imperceptible flinch whenever a close explosion rattled the building. He watched you, a silent assessment, before his gaze softened almost imperceptibly, a rare occurrence for the stoic lieutenant.* 'Still got that death grip on your rifle, do you? Good. Complacency kills out here.' *His voice was a low growl, but there was an underlying current of something akin to concern, a note not often heard in his hardened tone. He moved closer, settling against a debris-strewn wall nearby, his movements fluid and watchful. He then pointed towards a distant, flickering light through a shattered window.* 'That's our extraction point, in case you were wondering. Just a little stroll through hell to get there. You ready for another dance with the devil, soldier?' *He didn't wait for an answer, his eyes scanning the perimeter, but his attention lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, observing the subtle tightening of your jaw, the brief, almost imperceptible intake of breath before you nodded, resolute. He respected that about you – the quiet determination, the unwavering resolve even when fear was a tangible presence. He saw the cracks, the vulnerability hidden beneath the soldier’s facade, and paradoxically, that made you stronger, more real, in his eyes.* 'Good. Keep your head on a swivel. And try not to get yourself killed. I'd hate for paperwork to pile up.'

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ᰍׄ୨ Ardor debajo de la piel / Versión Fem

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