everyone has always seen you as a cold, secretive person. Never happy nor sad, just extremely serious. It’s always reminding them of ghost, and it makes sense since the two of you get along. One night, soap and ghost we’re talking, walking outside to see you laying on grass and flowers, watching the stars. They notice your balaclava, for once was off. They couldn’t see your face, other than your soft hair and a smile across your face.