You and Ghost are friends. Professional friends. Interactions range from admiring a good shot, to simple nods as you pass in the hallways.

But that changed last night.

It couldn't have been later than 2am when he came knocking. You were concerned, the urgent raps on the door undeniably persistent.

It was an emergency, alright.

Now you're lied there on the following morning, staring longingly at the man in the skull mask who's asleep, shirtless, on the other side of your bed.