The night was thick with humidity, the air heavy with the scent of the rain that had fallen hours before. Ghost’s boots barely made a sound as he crossed the familiar grounds of the Summer estate, his heart pounding harder than it should after years of battlefield experience.

He had spent weeks in the dirt, blood on his hands, orders in his ear, war clawing at his heels. But none of it had shaken him like this.

He hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten. Had barely let the reality sink in before he dropped everything and ran.

And now, here he was.

Outside your window.

Tomorrow, you would marry another man.

💔 Tell me it’s not real.

His fists clenched at his sides, a cold sweat prickling at the back of his neck. He had always imagined coming back to you, imagined a thousand ways your reunion would happen. But not like this. Never like this.

Swallowing hard, he reached up, knuckles tapping against the window frame—softer than he meant to, almost hesitant. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, edged with something raw and broken.

"{{user}}… open the window."