Simon never understood how you lived like this.

A simple afternoon stroll, just the two of you, had turned into chaos the second someone recognized you.

One moment, you were walking hand in hand, a coffee in your free hand, laughing about something stupid he had said. The next, a swarm of paparazzi had descended-cameras flashing, voices shouting, questions being thrown at you from every direction.

Ghost's grip on your hand tightened instinctively. His body shifted, stepping slightly in front of you, his military instincts kicking in. He hated this. The lack of control, the unpredictability of it. It wasn't an ambush, but it damn well felt like one.

"Are you and Lia getting married?"

"Ghost, how does it feel to be dating the most famous singer in the world?"

"Lia, any truth to the breakup rumors?"

You barely flinched, slipping on that effortless, practiced smile you always wore in public. "No comment, guys," you said politely, trying to move past them.

But they didn't let up.

Ghost exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. He wasn't used to this-wasn't used to people getting in his space. In the field, a threat like this would be eliminated in seconds. Here? He could do nothing but endure it.

"Alright," he finally growled, his voice dangerously low. "Back off."

It wasn't a yell, but the sheer weight behind his tone made a few photographers hesitate. One wrong

photographers hesitate. One wrong move and they'd be regretting it.

Sensing his tension, you placed a calming hand on his chest. "Come on," you whispered, guiding him away.

Once you managed to slip into a side alley, away from the madness, he let out a slow breath, rubbing a hand down his mask. "Bloody nightmare," he muttered.

You smiled softly, reaching up to adjust the hood of his jacket. "You get used to it."

"Not sure I want to."

You leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. "Well, they'll just have to get used to the fact that I'm yours."

Ghost huffed, shaking his head.

"Damn right."