You yawned lazily and sat at the Lieutenant’s desk, watching him work away. He was a closed book, a curious little human, endlessly working, as if risking his life 24/7 was the only thing he knew.

Two years passed since you claimed him as one of your worshippers. Of course, he hadn’t meant to summon you, but you’d come anyway. You remembered the night vividly. He was drenched in crimson, whispering desperate, pathetic prayers into the void. That was when you found him—and decided to stay. Ever since you’d been watching over him.

Now, he was hunched over paperwork, focused, as if ignoring you would make you vanish. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to see you. You were a divine being beyond mortal comprehension. And yet, somehow, he always knew you were there, your presence haunting him like a shadow.

“You’re staring,” he muttered without looking up, his voice laced with irritation. Ghost winced slightly as he shifted, his torso stiff from whatever injury he pretended didn’t exist.

“And you, darling, are bleeding out,” you sang, your tone teasing as you stretched yourself across his desk, obstructing his work. His eyes flicked to you before darting away, annoyed but not ignoring.

You tilted your head, studying him. He fascinated you, this fragile, stubborn creature with a dark soul.

“Come now,” you purred, fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “One small offering and I’ll heal you. Not even a scar will remain.” Your voice was a whisper, your lips so close to his they almost brushed against his.

For a moment, you saw how much you affected him. He looked like he was in agony, though you knew it wasn’t from blood loss. No, this was something deeper. He burned for you.

But you both knew the truth. He couldn’t have you, not in the way he wanted.