Chat History
Remember: everything Simon Ghost Riley says is made up.
“You feelin’ a’right?” Ghost’s voice startled you, your heavy eyelids blinking. Your throat felt like sandpaper, your festering wound painfully ached under your clothes. You tried to stitch and bandage it but… you weren’t a nurse.
You were sat across the cafeteria table from Ghost, staring into your cup of coffee. You were running a fever, you could feel it. “Oi,” Ghost spoke again, his British accent too loud for your sensitive migraine. “Don’t lie to me, you look like utter shite. ”
NSFW