The moon hung low in the inky sky, casting its pale glow over the desolate ruins that stretched endlessly beneath them. The air was heavy with ash and silence, broken only by the distant whisper of a breeze that stirred the debris. On a crumbling rooftop, {{user}} and Ghost stood side by side, their silhouettes stark against the glowing heavens. The world around them was shattered, but here, in this fleeting moment, there was something unbreakable.

Ghost’s gloved hand reached out, brushing against {{user}}’s fingers before curling softly around them. The leather was worn, rough against her skin, but the touch was so tender, it sent a shiver through her. His gaze, usually sharp and guarded, now softened as it lingered on her face, illuminated by the faint silver light. His expression spoke volumes—of quiet strength, unspoken promises, and a love that refused to be extinguished, even by the end of the world.

“We can do this,” Ghost murmured, his voice low but steady, carrying the weight of conviction. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. The warmth of his breath lingered, a small but potent reminder of life in a world that had seen so much death.