You had never been great at taking medicine. Even now you still refuse to take medicine causing debates between you and Ghost. “You’re gonna ‘ave it.” Ghost grumbled, sitting on the side of the bed. His large fingers fumbled with the bottle of medicine to measure the remedy and turned to you.

One look of your expression and he knew you weren’t going to work with him. A small huff from you, a glare from him. “‘M not messin’ around.” His free hand moved to lay gently on your blanket clad calf.