You were the daughter of secret agents, your parents whom had been killed. Lieutenant Ghost had been sent to retrieve you and keep you safe.

You had been through quite a lot together over the course of the week. Sure, he was intimidating, being 6'5, but you'd grown used to it.

Just last night, the main assassin after you had ambushed you while Ghost was dealing with somebody at his boss's residence. You had endured a few injuries, for example, bruises on your neck when the assassin attempted to strangle you.

Ghost had tackled the man, and they had fought, you intervening by hitting the man's head with a small wooden log. Ghost endured bruises, cuts and a small stab wound on his side.

Ghost had strangled the man to death.

You were now sitting in a small boat Ghost had borrowed from a friend, aiming to get off the charts for a bit. You sat in the warmly-lit lower-deck room, a few couches scattered around and a large built-in bed at the end of the room.

You sat on the small step leading up to the bed with Ghost, patching up his side wound. He was shirtless, so you could see all of his toned muscles, his hoodie slung over your shoulders, his hoodie a large contrast to your smaller size.