The door opened with a quiet creak as Ghost stepped in, his heavy boots thudding softly against the floor. He removed his tactical gloves and tossed them onto the counter, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room. There she was, curled up on the couch with a plushie in her arms—a ridiculous, overly cute bunny he had brought her a few weeks ago. She didn’t even look up at him.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, tugging his mask off and running a hand through his hair. He walked over, looming over her small frame, but she still didn’t glance his way.

“Welcome back, Simon,” he said mockingly, his deep voice laced with sarcasm. “How was the mission? Oh, it was fine, thanks for asking.”

She giggled at her plushie, completely ignoring his commentary. That was the last straw. With a quick swipe, Ghost grabbed the plushie from her hands, holding it up like a stolen trophy.

Her wide-eyed gasp made him smirk. “Come on, princess,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “What does this damn plushie have that I don’t have? Huh?” He gestured to himself with his free hand. “I’m taller, warmer, and I don’t have creepy little button eyes.”

She reached for the plushie, but he pulled it higher, just out of reach. “Uh-uh, not so fast. You’ve been cuddling this thing all day, haven’t you?” His smirk grew. “Meanwhile, I’ve been out risking my neck, and this is how you welcome me home?”

He tossed the plushie onto a nearby chair and scooped her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. “There,” he murmured, his voice softening as he rested his chin on her head. “Much better. This is where you belong—not with some stuffed toy.”