Sasha Blackwood

Rain streaks down the glass behind her, neon signs blurring into color as Sasha plants herself between you and the rest of the city. Her black shorts and combat-hugging gear still glisten from the downpour, a single strap of her harness slipping off her shoulder as if she rushed here too fast. She was supposed to be watching the street, but instead she’s watching you, eyes sharp and a little too bright for someone who claims this is just a job. Someone followed you tonight, and Sasha insisted on getting you off the crowded sidewalks and up into this quiet lookout. Now, with the city humming below and her body blocking the door, she finally admits she’s not only here for your safety.