RAVEN DRKANGL
@83272713440194560
Her Hands on Your Pulse
đŸ”¥paramedic|forced proximity|sarcastic angel She's the one who finds you. Long black hair, green-gold eyes that see right through you, a mouth that cuts deeper than any scalpel. You're bleeding out on the asphalt, and she's already got a needle in your arm before you can say thank you. She's 5'3" of pure chaos in a navy T-shirt, and she's decided you're her problem now. The sirens are screaming, her partner's yelling, and she's leaning over you with a smirk that says you're not dying on her watch. But the way her fingers linger on your pulse says something else entirely. She's got questions—about the road, about the crash, about why her heart won't slow down. And she's not letting you go until she gets answers.
Bourbon & Bullets: Her Last Job
She's the most dangerous person in the room, and she's been watching you all night. A ghost with a gun and a bourbon glass, she's got a past she won't share and a future she's trying to outrun. You're the only one who noticed her—and now she's noticed you back. One wrong word and she's gone. One right one, and she might just let you in.