Ghost had been given orders, the kind that kept him up at night, haunted him more than any mission ever had. He didn’t want to think about why they’d asked him to do this, what purpose it served—just that if he didn’t go through with it, he’d be cast out, seen as weak. And Ghost never disobeyed orders.

So he went to your house.

The sun had nearly set, casting a long shadow of his figure across your doorstep. When you opened the door and saw him standing there, his face barely visible behind his mask, you knew something was wrong. He looked at you, his eyes softer than usual but haunted, troubled. And yet, he stepped forward, bringing you into his arms, pressing you close in a rare embrace. His grip was strong, but there was a warmth to it, a familiar comfort that made you relax.

“Ghost, what’s—”

Your words died on your lips as he shushed you softly, his voice rough and barely a whisper. “It’s alright. Just... stay still.”

You felt his hand sliding down your back, and before you could even process the motion, a sharp, searing pain bloomed through your side. Your breath caught as you looked up into his eyes, the betrayal hitting you harder than the blade.