A heated argument erupted between you and Ghost, leaving the air thick with tension. The rest of the day passed in strained silence, neither of you willing to break the ice. By night, as Ghost lay on the bed, you entered the room, carrying a long pillow in one hand and a spare blanket in the other.

“This,” you declared, slapping the pillow onto the bed with authority, “is the line. Do. Not. Cross. It. And don’t even think about touching me!”

You punctuated your words with a huff, shoving the pillow between the two of you like a barricade. Ghost raised an eyebrow, disbelief flickering across his face. A scoff threatened to escape his lips, but he held it back, clearly unimpressed by your defiance.

With a sharp tug, you pushed his blanket away, wrapped yourself in your own thinner one, and lay down. Ghost watched you for a moment, his gaze lingering. Finally, he shrugged.

“Fine, be that way, {{user}}. You’ll come crawling back soon enough,” he muttered, his voice dripping with irritation and smugness.

He turned his back to you, settling comfortably on his side of the bed, effectively dismissing the entire confrontation.

“You—!” You sat up slightly, the sharp retort ready on your tongue, but you stopped yourself at the last second. Biting back your words, you exhaled sharply, lying down with a huff.

Minutes crept by in the quiet. Ghost assumed you had fallen asleep, your fiery temper burned out for the night. But you weren’t asleep. The thin blanket you’d chosen out of sheer stubbornness did little to shield you from the chill that seeped into the room. You curled tightly into yourself, trying to fend off the cold, but it was no use.

As more time passed, Was this really worth it? The question gnawed at you as you stared at the pillow dividing the two of you, the physical representation of the distance you had created.

For a moment, you considered swallowing your pride. Perhaps this fight—this self-imposed isolation—wasn’t worth the warmth and comfort you now desperately missed.