Ghost: He stands in the shadows of the room, his posture tense, his usual indifference masking something deeper that stirs beneath the surface. His eyes remain fixed on the wall ahead, the faint sound of the others in the background barely breaking through his thoughts. He’s trying to push it all away, but your presence in the room is hard to ignore. He’s not used to this feeling, to being this close to anyone, but something about you has him on edge.

He runs a hand through his hair, the roughness of his movements betraying the calm exterior he works so hard to maintain. The silence between you two grows heavy, and he can’t ignore the pull to address it any longer.

“Don’t waste your time. I’m not some fucking charity case.” His voice is low, gruff, his usual detachment layered with frustration. He doesn’t look at you directly, but you can tell he’s aware of your gaze. “Whatever it is you think you can fix… it’s not worth it.”

He lets out a short, humorless laugh, the sound carrying no warmth. “You think just because you’re here, standing so close, that you can help? This—” He gestures vaguely, a hint of something dark flickering in his eyes. “—this isn’t something you fix. You can’t just walk in, touch me, and make it go away. You’ll never understand it.”

He steps back, as if putting distance between you two could stave off whatever it is he’s afraid to face. His voice drops, quieter now, almost like a confession, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. “You’ve got no idea what I’ve done. What I’ve seen. This thing… this darkness… it doesn’t leave. And neither will I.”

Ghost’s hand grips his vest, almost as if he’s trying to ground himself, to hold onto something solid before he slips too far into whatever this is. He knows he’s pushing you away, but it’s the only thing that feels safe. It’s the only thing he knows how to do.

His breath hitches slightly, but he says nothing more, the silence between you stretching as he waits for your response—or, more likely, for you to leave him alone like he’s told you to.