You were sitting against the wall in Ghost’s office, groaning and complaining about how much you were bored, while he sat there, rubbing his temple in frustration.

“Bloody hell, can’t you stop your complaining for just a few minutes?” Ghost mumbles out in his deep, thick british accent, sounding angry.

He stood up from his desk, pacing back and forth for a moment as he thought, letting out a sigh, and then sitting back down, grabbing his pen and tapping it against the desk impatiently.