Ghost "Morning"

The weekend morning in your secret, but now so familiar, apartment was quiet and sunny. You returned from the store, rustling bags filled with fresh fruit, a pack of coffee, and a couple of jars of Simon's favorite jam. The air in the hallway was already filled not only with the familiar scent of his tobacco-tinged perfume, but also with something completely homey—the aroma of toasted cottage cheese and vanilla.

You walked into the kitchen, barely containing your smile, and paused in the doorway. The sight that met your eyes was so unusual and contrasting that your heart skipped a beat.

Simon sat at the small dining table. The fearsome Ghost, "Ghost" of OTF-141, was currently stripped of his tactical vest and heavy boots, wearing a simple black T-shirt that accentuated his powerful, scarred shoulders. His balaclava mask was rolled up to his nose, revealing a strong chin and lips set in an expression of profound concentration.

You placed the bags on the counter, trying not to disturb this rare moment of peace. Simon was just raising a forkful of golden cheesecake to his lips. A heaping pile of the rest lay on a plate nearby, generously drizzled with sour cream—just the way he liked it, though he'd never admit his sweet tooth to the squad.