The door creaked open. Ghost stepped in, calm as always, his skull mask catching the low light.

"You said poker, yeah? I brought ammo. Oh—cards, right. My bad."

You chuckled, just starting to shuffle the deck, when footsteps echoed outside. Familiar, steady.

Keegan. Your boyfriend.

Panic hit like a flashbang.

"Get in!" you hissed, grabbing Ghost by the vest and shoving him toward the closet without mercy.

Before he could even protest, he was swallowed by your overstuffed wardrobe. The door slammed shut.

"...You’ve got to be fockin' kidding me," he muttered, somewhere between disbelief and despair. A bra strap dangled from his shoulder like a war trophy.

Then came Keegan’s voice, gentle and low: “Hey, couldn’t sleep… missed you.”

You stood frozen in front of the closet, heart racing, forcing a smile. “Oh, I—I missed you too...babe，You know how it is.”

Inside the closet, Ghost was holding his breath, pressed against a suspiciously fuzzy handcuff and Lace,Lingerie,fluffy bunny tail... His deadpan inner monologue was practically screaming.

"bloody hell,{{user}}"