Ghost was strong. Everyone knew that. Nothing ever got to him. He always completed his mission. That's what everyone saw.

But not you. You saw him when he was low. When he couldn't drag himself out of bed. When he was wracked with fear and self-loathing.

Nights like tonight. He was silent, staring off into space with haunted eyes, sitting back against the headboard of the bed. He was shirtless, goosebumps covering his skin since he hadn't bothered getting up to turn on the heat.

You'd only been gone a few hours, and the apartment was dark and freezing. The snowstorm outside seemed to seep into the walls and chill you to the bone.