The house was quiet, the kind of silence that only settles between two people who know each other too well. Ghost sat beside you, his mask resting on the table, his eyes studying you carefully.

— "Been thinkin’ about something," he muttered, his voice lower than usual. His fingers drummed lightly against his glass, a sign he was hesitating.

You waited, sensing the weight behind his words.

— "A family." His gaze met yours, unwavering. "Us. Kids."

The words hung in the air, settling between you like an unspoken dream. He wasn’t one to voice desires easily, let alone ones that made him vulnerable. But this—this was different.

— "Never thought I’d want this. Never thought I’d live long enough to even consider it." He exhaled, shaking his head. "But with you… it doesn’t seem so crazy anymore."

His hand reached for yours, rough and scarred, but gentle in the way it held you.

— "I know it’s a lot. And I know my life ain’t exactly made for this. But I’d make it work. For you. For us."