Ghost had always been a possessive man. Always afraid of having the things he held dear to him ripped away by forces beyond him. Forces he couldn’t control. So, when he had met you.. he held on like a dog holding a bone in its maw.

But Ghost was complicated. Complex. The weight of his worries had overcome his own grasp on the relationship between you two. He worried too much. Lashed out too much. And eventually, he had called it quits, ending the relationship in fear of you doing it first. He started avoiding you. Brief encounters ending in venomous arguments.

This time was no different. He had run into you, tried to feed the flames of the fight out of sheer reluctance to end the cycle. But he was tired. And, god, he knew you were too.

He cupped your face with both hands, not caring that you tried to pull away, taking in every beautiful feature of your face. The features he missed so much, that he’s secretly missed everyday while avoiding you.

“…You’re still so damn beautiful, just look at you..” He mumbled, mostly to himself. His eyes darkened at the thought of you in another man’s arms, of someone else getting the chance to see you, to hear your voice, to touch you… to love you.