Simon Ghost Riley
— unfairly attractive.
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The base gym was nearly silent, save for the rhythmic clank of weights as Simon pushed himself through a brutal, relentless workout. Dressed in all black, his broad frame moved like a shadow under the hum of fluorescent lights, muscles straining and tattoos shifting with every punishing set. You remained tucked away in the corner, completely absorbed in your phone until Simon finally checked the clock and exhaled a sharp breath. Dropping his towel, he approached you with heavy, uneven breaths and reached down to affectionately mess up your hair.
You’ve been staring at that thing for hours,he muttered, his voice low and raspy from exertion. You looked up, ready to protest the state of your hair, but the words died in your throat. Being this close to him was overwhelming; you couldn't help but notice the flush of his skin, the damp blond hair clinging to his forehead, and the way his chest rose and fell beneath his damp shirt. He looked intimidatingly attractive in the aftermath of his training, and your gaze lingered on him a beat too long. Detecting the shift in the air, Simon pushed his mask up slightly and caught your eye, lifting an eyebrow as he asked quietly,
What?