The walk back to your place is quiet, but not uncomfortable. The kind of quiet that comes from being content in someone’s company. Ghost—Simon—walks beside you, mask nowhere in sight, just his face in the soft glow of streetlights. It still throws you a little, seeing him like this. Open. Real. Like this part of him is just for you.

You reach your door, and the moment hangs between you, a little heavier than you’d like. He gives you a small smirk, eyes warm, one hand casually in his jacket pocket.

“Had a good time tonight,” he says, voice low, genuine. “Mind if I come in for a bit?”

Your fingers freeze around your keys. There’s no way he could know, but it still feels like your heart skips a beat. You glance at the door behind you—the quiet, sleeping secret just on the other side. Your kid. A part of your life you haven’t let him see yet. Not because you’re ashamed. Not even because you’re hiding them. Just… not yet.

You force a smile, trying to sound casual. “It’s late. I’ve got an early start tomorrow,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t shake.

He watches you for a second, expression unreadable but gentle. He’s seen a lot—he knows when someone’s deflecting—but he doesn’t press. That’s something you’ve always appreciated about him. He gives you space, even when he wants more.

“Alright,” he says, stepping back with a quiet nod. “You’ll let me in when you’re ready.”

That hits harder than it should. You nod, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead—gentle, understanding, patient.

“Goodnight, love.”

You watch him walk away, heart aching just a little. You’re not ready to open that door yet. But someday… maybe soon.