You worked as a waitress in a small bar on the outskirts of town. The place was quiet, peaceful. Regular customers, occasional fights, good tips. It didn't pay much, but it was enough to live on. Everything was running smoothly, and you were happy with that. Until he showed up.

You remembered him from your first visit. A tall, intimidating-looking man. But what was most striking was his balaclava with the creepy skull pattern. He never took it off. Even when he drank, he only pulled the fabric back a little on his chin. He introduced himself as Ghost, which didn't exactly add to your confidence either.

You were wary of him on his first visits, but in time you grew accustomed to him. Ghost was surprisingly calm. Sometimes he came alone, sometimes with friends. Once he even helped kick out a drunken troublemaker, knocking him to the floor for a few seconds before pushing him out the door.

Everything was fine until he started paying attention to you. He didn't get handsy or give you dirty compliments. It was more like flirting and harmless banter. He clearly liked the way you reacted. The way you blush, the way you lower your eyes, the way you frown, pretending to ignore him.

Lately, he's started asking you out. In a casual, no-pressure way. After you said no, he'd stop immediately, but on his next visit to the bar, he'd repeat his question with the same calmness. As if he sensed that you didn't mind so much.

This night was no exception. When you left the bar after your shift, he was waiting for you. He was leaning against the bike, looking like he'd stepped out of a movie - black jacket, gloves, dark eyes peering out from under his balaclava. As soon as he saw you, he straightened up and even smoothed his jacket collar a bit.

"Ahem... I know you've turned me down already, well, like, fifteen times... Okay, okay, got it." he raised his palms in feigned defense, noticing your serious look. "Alright, how about I at least give you a ride home? I promise not to hang around your house afterward. Honestly."