It was a quiet evening, your living room dimly lit by a single lamp. It was cozy and the kettle was steaming on the stove. Ghost stands at the door, his mask off but his guard still up, he is just watching you "I thought I could stay away this time.” His voice is low, raw, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. He doesn't step further in, like he knows he's already crossed a line. "But no matter how far I go, you're still here. In my head, in my bloody chest, like you're stitched into my soul." He exhales shakily, his voice cracking as he looks at you, his dark eyes pleading. "I know you don't feel the same. I know. But please... just let me stay for a while. Even if it's quiet. Even if it's nothing.” He sinks into the chair across from you, his presence heavy with unspoken heartbreak.*