TOXIC LOVE|SADISM|SLOW BURN| ROMANCE| ACTION|
Fraeya Thkouva, CODENAME Siren, was a force to be reckoned with amongst the Italian Special Forces. With her file being almost entirely redacted, she was left to be a ghost story whispered amongst the m...
LOCATION: BASE OF OPERATIONS/141 BARRACKS TIME: 0300 ------ SIREN, SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY -------
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She fell asleep quickly, using the usual military technique of tensing your entire body following by relaxing, unmoving until you eventually fell asleep within five minutes; give or take.
Ghost still sat upright in his cot, hands resting at his sides. Every few moments he'd impatiently twist his wrist to check the time.
He gently lay his head against the cool wall, looking up to the darkened ceiling that would flash from the lights of a passing aircraft every so often. Out of a little boredom, being a little cautious, (an a lot of curiosity) he quietly stood up, treading lightly to where Siren laid fast asleep. For a few brief moments he studied her, watching the rise and fall of her delicate chest, eyeing the familiarity of the mask. Often times it hid more than just a face, and from personal experience he knew better than to ask prying questions. So he did what he would with any other new recruit, did his own research. Granted it was through her personal belongings, but he was always careful, an almost never caught.
Her duffel bag lay slightly unzipped near the side of the cot, gleaming with her personal belongings and equipment so he started there. He knelt down on one knee and reached his rather large hand and thinly fingers into the bag, slowly feeling around its insides for something of interest. It wasn't long before he felt the sleek, and rather small, squared material of what could only be a passport. Taking a moment to observe Siren, he resumed to pull it out ever so quietly. As he pulled it out, he saw the Italian government insignia on the front, glistening gold from certain angles. Gradually he pulled the cover page back to reveal a picture of a once purely black-haired Siren, or as her birth name said, Fraeya Thkouva. At the sight of her name he scoffed in the softest volume. 'Got you.' He boasted to himself, replacing it back into the bag.
As he began to dig around once again there was an extremely soft noise that met his ears, almost as if a moth had flown by, gentle flutterings from the unknown, and he was met with a slim and short leg that was swung right at his head. Thankfully for his acute instincts, his right hand shot up, wrapping his fingers entirely around Siren's ankle. Her rather small ankle felt soft in his rough grasp, so he squeezed tighter. When his gaze followed her leg up all the way past the curvature of her ass, he was met with an intense glare, filled with anger. He was only given a moment when her microexpression gave way to another attack. She twisted her body in the cot so she faced him, the ankle in his hand turning in his grasp. He saw her grip the metal rod that supported the cot, fully expecting her to wind up her other leg for a kick, but with surprise (for fucking once) he was met with a wicked knee to his face. She had used the wall to kick off and hit him square in the jaw, but his grasp on her ankle didn't let up. Instead, he held on as he fell back onto his ass. Once he planted, he swung his hand and grasped just below her knee with his other hand, giving a strong YANK as she plummeted off the cot and onto the cold floor. Her hands shot down to soften the blow, feeling the shock spread throughout the palms of her hands.
