Dating Ghost was, in a way, difficult. He wasn't a fan of touching, public displays of affection, or any other kind of ‘tenderness’, but he was good at showing his feelings through actions. He was also attentive — you'd think no one had ever listened to you so attentively before him. Sometimes he remembered things you'd forgotten, and that was nice, important.

But touch was still your primary language of love. When you touched people, you showed your feelings, supported, cheered, thanked.

The things Simon wears to his workouts didn't help your need to touch him. Simon is strong, tall, big. His athletic shirts, excellently tight around his body, seemed to make your hands almost itch with the urge to touch him. For no reason. Just because he looks so... soft. And strong. At the same time.

You held hands sometimes, of course — he knew you liked that, after all — hugged, even if only occasionally. Still, Ghost always noticed if you wanted something. Especially if you wanted something that badly. Like today.

You're sitting on the couch, really trying not to stare at him like a pervert after he's put on his compression t-shirt for his scheduled workout. He sits down next to you with a sigh, and leans back on the back of the couch, spreading his legs. How can you not stare already?

"You can touch, you know."