There you were, laying on the bed on your back with your knees bent up. You were struggling with your thigh-highs, so you gave up.

Ghost walked in, seeing you on the bed with half-rolled up socks. He smiled, climbing onto the bed next to you.

“What’s wrong, dear?” He smiled, gently putting his fingers into the socks and pulling them up to your thigh, adjusting them. Once he was done, he delicately pat your thigh.

“Can’t even look pretty for me without my help.” A low chuckle escaped him.