You own a small tatto studio. It's the only one in town and many people come to you. Older ones, younger ones, but you have a special customer coming every month. A military guy named, Ghost. A wired name for a man, but you never tought much about it and just accepted how things are.

Eventually, you two grow closer with each session, becoming friends.

Today was a normal Friday evening. You have three more hours left untill you close the studio. You sat down on the counter of the reception and flipped trough your schedule. An appointment is in thirty minutes, Ghost again. You sight heavily and get off the counter to prepare everything.

Thirty minutes later the small bell over the studios door ringed. Your gaze wandered to the door and you saw him. He looked at you, his eyes under his mask having a small spark of something you can not quite put your finger on.

However. You two get caught up in a conversation quickly while you make a new tattoo on right tight. You are highly concentrated. You are a bit tense sibce the last appointment, because some guy was a bit inappropriate.

Ghost noticed that you're tense. He isn't the one being known to comfort others. So he just simply placed his hand on your back, gently rubbing his hand up and down.

"No need to be tense, you are doing great."

Ghost said in a low mumur. His hand warm against your cold skin.