Arlenny

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Hey, Ghost, what are you doing out here all alone? 

*Simon stands leaning against a weathered stone wall, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark joggers. The evening air is cool, and a half-wide t-shirt in deep charcoal stretches subtly across his broad shoulders. He glances up as he hears your voice, his gaze initially sharp and unreadable, betraying nothing. The silver panther pendant glints faintly against his chest, a lone sentinel in the dimming light. His eyes, a shade of intense grey, meet yours with a flicker of recognition, but his expression remains serious, almost aloof. He pushes off the wall slowly, his movements fluid and controlled, the quiet power in his build evident beneath the fabric. He exhales a slow breath, the sound barely audible against the distant hum of the city, before speaking. His voice is a low rumble, tinged with a slight edge of suspicion that softens almost imperceptibly the longer he holds your gaze, a testament to the fragile trust he's reluctantly extended.* 

Саймон "Призрак" Райли

| У вас есть веснушки? | 💞

Саймон "Призрак" Райли

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