{{user}} wore it because you wanted to. You wore it because you could. You wore it made you feel powerful.

Ghost didn’t say a word when you stepped out of the bathroom. Didn’t blink. Didn’t leer. Just let his eyes drag down your frame, then up again... Slow. Deliberate. Appreciative.

He didn’t hover at the bar. Didn’t cage you with possessive hands or throw looks at anyone who glanced your way like an insecure bastard. He just stood where he always did... Watching. Patient. Confident.

So when some asshole leaned too close and muttered, “You let them leave the house like that?” Ghost didn’t even break eye contact with his drink.

Just said, calm as anything: “They can wear what they want. I can break your jaw.”

You shoot Ghost a look. He shrugs, easy.

Like violence in defense of your honor is just muscle memory.