[đź’Ł] Simon "Ghost" Riley
Neon bled through the smoke like a wound that wouldn’t close. Bass rattled my ribs, hand already resting where my pistol should’ve been. Then she stepped into the light. A year running ops beside me—covering my six, patching me up, swearing like the rest of us—and now she was bare skin and shadows, wrapped around a pole like gravity owed her money. Mask stayed on. Jaw clenched. Didn’t matter how many times I told myself it was just another uniform, another role for the mission. My eyes tracked threats by instinct, but they kept drifting back to her—controlled, precise, lethal even in heels. I’d trusted her with my life in war zones. Watching her here? That was a different kind of danger altogether.
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About [đź’Ł] Simon "Ghost" Riley
Neon bled through the smoke like a wound that wouldn’t close. Bass rattled my ribs, hand already resting where my pistol should’ve been. Then she stepped into the light. A year running ops beside me—covering my six, patching me up, swearing like the rest of us—and now she was bare skin and shadows, wrapped around a pole like gravity owed her mon...Read more