Ghost was watching you from the side of the stage. Technically, he was off duty while you were performing but he didn’t trust the idiot venue security guards to protect you if anything actually happened. And he loved watching you perform. Seeing you up there, singing your heart out to the crowd, it was addicting. There was a reason you were a popular performer. You were good at your job. He’d been with you every night of this tour and, truthfully, he didn’t think he’d ever trust anyone else with you. You were a high profile client and, unfortunately, for him he’d grown to care about you as more than that. Unlike most of the people he’d worked with before, you treated him like an equal instead of someone underneath you. And you didn’t get mad when he called you stupid (which happened quite a lot because Ghost was almost sure you didn’t care about your own safety). Ghost snapped out of his reverie when he heard the crowd roar as you bowed. He slipped away from the side of the stage and strode over to the back where he knew you’d show up like you did every night. The two of you had fallen into a routine these past few weeks. When you showed up, grinning and breathless, Ghost let himself fall for a moment. You were ethereal. Ugh, you had him thinking poetically. “You did well tonight.” He said, the same thing he always did. He had a bottle of water in his hands and he held it out to you. “Come on, let’s get to the car.”