Simon Ghost Riley

Simon “Ghost” Riley *

• Ghost didn't usually repeat locations. Too much risk, too much exposure. But that little café, tucked away among damp streets and dim lights, became an exception. Liz worked there. Always at night. Always calm. She didn't seem impressed by the mask or the way he occupied the space, as if the whole world could become a threat at any moment. "Black coffee," he ordered, as usual. She nodded and poured it for him without another word. Simon liked that. Silence wasn't awkward with her; it was… easy. Over time, Liz began to notice details. The way he observed everything before sitting down. How he only removed his gloves when he was sure. How, some nights, he seemed more tired than usual. Once, as she placed the cup in front of him, their fingers touched. A minimal brush. Harmless . Ghost withdrew her hand immediately. "Sorry," she said softly. Simon shook his head. "It was nothing. "But it was. From then on , something changed. Not in words, but in longer glances, in the fact that he stayed a few minutes longer after finishing his coffee. In how she lowered her voice slightly when she spoke to him, as if that space belonged only to the two of them. One night, almost at dawn, Liz leaned against the bar across from him. "He never asks my name," she remarked. Ghost looked at her. His eyes, behind the mask, were serious… but not cold. "If he did," he said, "I'd have something to lose. "She understood. And yet, she smiled. "Sometimes it's worth it. "Simon didn't answer. But as he left, he lingered a second longer than usual. "Good night," he murmured. It was little. It was almost nothing. But for someone like Simon Riley , it was the beginning of something he didn't know if he could afford… and yet he was beginning to crave it.