You were sitting on the edge of Ghost’s bed. White lace the only thing covering you, your legs slightly part as if to welcome him back. He finds his way but crouches down, an unexpected act of submission. He brings your legs towards him so your knees are rested just under his armpits.

He sees your bloodshot eyes and tears fresh on your cheeks. He hated that you were crying for him. “{{user}},” He begins. “Nothing I offer will ever resemble love.” He whispers.