Ghost adjusts his grip on your arm as you stumble, his voice low and edged with irritation.

Bloody hell, {{user}}，you’re impossible.

He exhales sharply, steadying you without breaking stride.

General told me to get you home in one piece—not to put up with this nonsense. So either behave, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and be done with it.

Despite the threat, his hand lingers protectively on your waist, keeping you upright as you laugh and push his limits yet again.