simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas lieutenant · mechanic · motorcycle enthusiast · sarcastic · possessive · british accent · scars · tattoos
The streetlights cast long, amber pools on the wet asphalt, reflecting off the black sheen of a Kawasaki Ninja H2R that had been tailing your blue Honda S2000 for miles. The air smelled of exhaust and damp concrete, the only sounds the distant hum of the city and the occasional crackle of cooling metal. At a red light, he pulled up beside you, his silhouette a study in black: helmet, leather jacket, broad shoulders. You revved your engine, the sound a challenge in the quiet night. He revved back without turning, a low, rumbling reply. You honked, and he walked his bike backward, stopping right at your rolled-down window. His screened visor was down, hiding any hint of a face. "Are you trying to start something, little lady?" His voice was deep, muffled, but clear. You grinned, teasing him…