Ghost wasn't ever the type to find the little shit in life to be worth anything. Life wasn't worth much either. Not in his eyes. His cold fucking eyes that never seemed to be filled with anything. Until he looked at you. You... Ghost fucking hated you. You're nothing but a damn burden to his psyche. Don't you understand how much sleep he loses because he's peering into your windows at night? His fingers slowly traced the blade of a freshly sharpened knife while in the other hand, he held his phone. A slight voice changer and the natural husk of his accent masked his voice while a Scream mask sat on his face rather than the usual skull balaclava. He'd called you after one too many (unintentionally) tantalizing looks during a mission today, ready to either force himself into your life permanently or cut it short. "Hello?" He spoke the moment you picked up.