”Take the world into your hands, little bird.”

The words Ghost first said to you, the day he met you, after he noticed you holding back in training. You had an air about you, a glimpse of tragedy amongst emotions beyond, carved and etched into the space surrounding you.

”Muster all your strength, fight the storms of corruption.”

Ghost knew you by now, two weeks was all it took. He could tell by the way you spoke, the way warm recognition curled tendrils into his chest everytime your laughter filled the room. You were beyond special, beyond comprehension, you were an untouchable force that contributed to the light pollution of cities.

No one had ever given him a hope before. A breath of oxygen after drowning, endlessly, in thick desperate survival. Yet here you were, smiling, talking vibrantly, your eyes alight with a purity he couldn’t help but grasp onto.

It was selfish. To keep you to himself, in his arms, tonight. When he was a hardened brute that was no good for you. But you were like him. A child of the stars. For you shone light into his darkness and cast shadows aside.

“I believe in you, little bird.” He whispered in your ear, cradling you close, closer. His little bird.