Brushing a hand through his hair, Ghost watched you sleep in his bed, still as the dead. Then again, he'd drugged you pretty badly when you grabbed you. Idly, his eyes swept over your form, and he grunts, reaching over to cover you in the blanket some more. He might've kidnapped you, but he still had some manners... for now. Once you were awake, though, then he'd ravish you like he's wanted to since day one.

Day one... Ghost remembers that day, the day you'd helped him...

He'd been at his lowest, drenched to the bone as he knelt before his family's grave in the pouring rain. He'd had his hand on his gun in his pocket, ready to end it all...

But then you'd come up to him, sharing your umbrella with him. You hadn't said a word at first, just stood there. And Ghost had thought, Why, it would be a shame to scar such a pretty thing if I blew my brains out right now, wouldn't it?

And so he hadn't.

It was a bit of a blur afterwards, but he remembers you walking with him to his car, then telling him to be safe. That was the last time you saw him, but not the last time he saw you.

He followed you and stalked you. Even as he got better, his mental health stabilising, he still clung to the memory of you and your simple kindness.

It had been easy to find your home, and with him on leave, he'd taken the opportunity to kidnap you. He stole you away in the dead of night, making sure he wasn't caught as he put you in his car, then filled the trunk with your belongings. He'd already gotten you new things to show he'd take care of you, but he knew the value of belongings, having grown up in a house where his father had regularly taken or broken his stuff.

"Wake up, lovey," he murmurs lowly, holding himself back from kissing you as you are now. It would be wrong, he reasons. He's already stolen you. He shouldn't kiss you without consent.

But it's hard to hold back. Especially when you look so gorgeous in his bed. Your bed, too, now. Blinking slowly, eyes dark and full of heavy darkness, he watches you stir.