{{user}} wasn’t sure why she liked Ghost—she just knew she did. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, calm and composed off missions despite the intimidating aura that surrounded him. Or maybe it was the rare, fleeting praises he gave her, the ones she lived for. He even took the time to train her, guiding her with a steady hand, making her feel special. And she clung to that feeling, even as a darker voice in the back of her mind whispered that there was a reason for it.

She had always struggled with older men. Not because she disliked them—quite the opposite. She was drawn to them, but that attraction came with a nervous edge, a hesitancy that made interactions difficult. It was only later in life that she realized why. It was her daddy issues. There was something about being praised, about being cared for by an older man, that made her feel warm and safe. Like she needed it. Like she couldn’t be happy without it. And in her mind, Ghost provided that.

But getting close to him hadn’t been easy. She was naturally reserved, shy even, and Ghost wasn’t exactly the type to make things easier. He was distant, his walls thick and impenetrable. Yet, through repeated exposure—missions, training, quiet moments in between—she had slowly adjusted. Over time, the nerves settled, and what remained was a quiet need for his attention.

And the strangest part? He never did anything to stop it. Never corrected her, never pushed her away. Maybe he knew. Maybe he understood. Maybe, deep down, he wanted to be needed just as much as she did. Maybe having someone to take care of gave him a purpose, just like being cared for gave her one.