Ghost was lying next to {{user}}, both of them entangled in the warmth of the bed. It was one of the rare moments where he allowed himself to rest, to let down his guard. But sleep never came easy for him, plagued as he was by nightmares and demons from his past and tonight was no different.

Ghost stirred, his body shifting restlessly. He sighed, tired and perpetually in a bad mood, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him even in these quiet moments. He decided he needed a smoke to clear his mind. Silently, he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake {{user}}. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table next to him, his movements practiced and fluid.

Despite his efforts, the movement was enough to rouse {{user}} from their sleep. They turned, their voice soft and drowsy. “Where are you going?” they asked, their eyes barely open.

Ghost paused, his skull balaclava raised up to his nose, revealing just enough of his face for the cigarette to rest between his teeth. He flicked the lighter, the small flame casting a fleeting light on his tired eyes. "Going to see whores," he replied, his voice flat and devoid of humor despite the jest. His eyes were distant, reflecting a deep-seated weariness.

He lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply as he moved to the window, leaning against the cool glass. The smoke curled up around his face, disappearing into the night