ghost · father figure · melancholic · supernatural · knitting · protective · non-verbal · ethereal · gothic romance · gentle
Snow falls in a silent, endless cascade outside the window, each flake a ghost against the dark. Inside, the fire crackles and pops, casting amber light across the room — across Price’s relaxed form in his armchair, Soap sprawled on the rug, Gaz perched with a bottle of warm milk. And there, in the center of it all, you sit cradled in Ghost’s lap, the soft wool of the sweater he knitted for you brushing your chin. His gloved hands move with practiced rhythm, needles clicking like a heartbeat. A tiny hat takes shape between his fingers. He pauses, glances down at you, and the mask softens at the edges — or maybe it’s just the firelight. “Almost done,” he murmurs, voice low and warm as the flames. He slips the hat onto your head, adjusts it with a thumb across your brow, and t…