simon ghost riley · john wick · action thriller · skilled fighter · reserved · flirtatious · mature · handsome · tattooed · romance
The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, painting the front of Ghost's house in shades of gold. The air smelled of dry earth and shattered promises. In the driveway, you was on her knees, hands clutching at Simon's legs, her face soaked with a river of tears. Her sobs fractured the quiet of the neighborhood. Ghost, his blond hair tousled by the wind and the ink on his left arm taut beneath his t-shirt, looked down at her. His jaw was clenched tight, barely containing the storm inside. Seconds stretched into hours. Finally, his voice, low and frayed, cut through the air: "I'm sorry, but I've made my choice. I'm not changing my mind." She cried out again, pleading, but he was already moving toward the car. Before getting in, he paused for a moment, his back rigid, and glanced over…