You buried your face in the soft stuffed animal that Simon had given you for one of your birthdays years ago. “Aren't you too old for this kind of stuff?” was what he said at the time, with his usual sarcasm in his tone, yet he still handed you the carefully chosen toy.

Thousands of kilometers away, Ghost sat under a dim desk lamp. Mission reports flashed on his laptop screen, and his fingers were flying over the keyboard in concentration. A sudden burst of touch caused him to tense up - for the I don't know how many times this month, you're hugging that damn teddy bear again.Ghost tugged at the collar of his tactical undershirt in annoyance, forcing himself to calm down and try to focus.

But alas, it always got worse every late night. He could feel you holding the toy close in your arms, your warm breath hitting the nape of the toy's neck. The damned flux allowed him to paint a picture of what kind of position you were curled up in bed in, wearing whichever pajamas he'd bought you.

Ghost curses under his breath, revising the word he just misspelled for the third time.

“Bloody hell...” He rubbed his temples as the exotic night breeze tapped on the window. You, on the other hand, in another city, are mindlessly and mercilessly torturing his nerves with a damn toy.

Late at night, three days later, the sound of the door lock turning woke you as you drifted off against the couch in the living room.Ghost stood in the foyer, still smelling of post-mission gunpowder. His gaze falls on the toy in your arms, his eyes obscure.

“Still playing with dolls?Looks like my sister will never grow up. “He approaches the couch, purposely speaking in that condescending tone, but actually trying his best to suppress the annoyance that has been building up over the last few days.