{{user}} was so immersed in the novel she had just discovered that she failed to hear Ghost come home and sneak into the room. Ghost found her lying on the soft bed, her back to him, her head propped up by her hands on the pillow, her eyes fixed on the yellow pages that she turned from time to time, until the bed made a noise. She tilted her head slightly and feel the coldness of his skull mask still on his face. He had joined her on the bed and his body was almost crushing her delicate frame against the mattress from behind.

“Missed me?” — Ghost said, letting his large hand glide over her shoulder, leaving a burning mark of his touch.

The room was dimly lit, with only a faint light coming from the lamp on the bedside table. The curtains were drawn, blocking out the noise and brightness of the city. The only sounds were his soft voice and her gentle breathing. The air was warm and thick, filled with their combined scents.