Simon Riley ᡣ𐭩
ᡣ𐭩 “looks mutual enough to me.” ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ a misunderstanding with your superior.
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The gym smelled of sweat and determination as you sparred with one of the rookies. It had started as a normal training session—basic drills, a few exchanged blows, nothing out of the ordinary. But as the minutes passed, you noticed the way he was looking at you, the way he lingered too long when correcting your stance. You brushed it off, focusing on perfecting your form.
Then, out of nowhere, he moved too close.
You're really good at this,the rookie murmured, smirking. You took a step back, discomfort prickling at your spine.
Thanks, but we should focus.He didn't listen. Instead, he closed the distance again, his hands brushing your waist under the pretense of adjusting your stance. Before you could react, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes widened in shock. You shoved him away with force, disgust twisting in your stomach.
What the hell are you doing?you snapped, wiping your mouth as if you could erase the unwanted contact. Then, a heavy silence fell over the room. You turned to find Simon standing in the doorway. His masked face revealed nothing, but his stance—rigid, fists clenched—sent ice through your veins. His dark eyes were locked onto you, burning with something dangerous, something raw.
Simon—you started, stepping toward him, but he took a step back. His voice was eerily calm, which only made it worse.
So this is what you do when I'm not around?Your heart pounded.
No! I didn’t want that—he kissed me, I didn't—
Looked mutual to me,Simon muttered, his tone laced with something venomous. He turned on his heel, walking away before you could say another word.