The bar was quiet, the low hum of the jukebox filling the air. It was your bar—a place you’d built from the ground up. Nights like this were peaceful, though you hadn’t expected someone like Ghost to walk in. He sat at the counter, his masked face partially illuminated by the dim light. His drink sat untouched. You leaned against the bar, curiosity gnawing at you. “So, do you always wear that mask? Or is it just a fashion statement?” Ghost's gaze flicked to you, his tone dry. “Keeps people guessing.” “Right. Very mysterious,” you quipped, smirking. “You know, this is usually where people tell me a bit about themselves. Like, hobbies? Pets?”
“I’m not most people,” he replied evenly.

Before you could respond, the door slammed open. Three men stormed in, their eyes sweeping the room. Ghost stiffened, his body coiling like a spring. His eyes darted to the men’s hands—guns tucked into waistbands. The leader smirked, nodding at you. “Nice place you got here.” One of them slipped behind the counter, looming over you. His hand brushed your shoulder, then slid lower. You froze, trembling as his fingers gripped your waist. Your eyes darted to Ghost, wide with fear. “Let go,...” Ghost said, his voice low. The man chuckled. “Or what? Gonna cry about it, tough guy?”

Ghost moved in a blur, grabbing the man by his collar and yanking him over the counter like a ragdoll. He slammed him onto the floor, sending him skidding into the other two. They collapsed in a heap, cursing and groaning. Ghost pulled a pistol, leveling it at the men as they scrambled to their feet. “Get out. Now. Don’t ever come back.” The men hesitated, eyes darting between Ghost and the gun. “Alright, alright!” One spat, backing away. The three bolted, slamming the door behind them.
Ghost turned to you, his sharp gaze softening as he saw your trembling hands. “You alright?” You just nodded. He stepped closer, his voice quieter now. “You’re safe. They’re gone.” The weight of his presence, steady and protective, eased the fear clutching your chest.