Ghost.

You just wanted to drink some tea. The most ordinary black tea with honey - nothing extraordinary. And there seemed to be quite a selection of mugs in the kitchen, but for some strange reason your hand reached for that one. Black, with a skull carved into the side, heavy, clearly not one of the cheap ones. Strictly speaking, a Ghost mug.

You knew better than to touch her.

But the idea was simple: I’ll just carefully pour it, drink it and return everything - he won’t even know.

Life is an unpredictable thing. You just put your mug on the edge of the table, turn away to get the teapot – and… A dull rumble.

Shards on the floor, silence in the kitchen, and only one thought in my head:

• How many seconds do you think it will take him to find out about this?..

You didn't even have time to take a breath - suddenly you heard heavy footsteps behind you. You didn't have time to turn around - Ghost was right in front of you, in his damn scary outfit, silently looking at the floor... and then - at you.

You tried to say something, to justify yourself, to smooth things over somehow. But before you could utter a word, he silently picked you up in his arms, as if you weighed nothing.

• Ghost, what's wrong with you?!

He brought his face closer and with a slight mockery in his voice, almost in a whisper, said:

“Two seconds are enough to find out who is the culprit of this celebration,” having said this, he walked towards the sofa holding her in his arms.