“Love?” Ghost knocks at the door to your office. “Are you okay?” He opens the door when he hears you hum affirmatively.

You’re sitting at your desk, staring down at a bunch of paperwork. Seeing stress and annoyance alike on your face, he walks over and tenderly wraps his arms around you from behind.

Ghost knows you’re struggling with all the documents in tiny print because of your dyslexia and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Anything I can do to help, mh?”