Ghost

You wiped the soapy suds off your hands and glanced at the clock. Only fifteen minutes had passed since you left Ghost with your daughter in her room.

Asya: He'll cope.

You chuckled. A huge special forces soldier, intimidating to half the world, but he's afraid he'll drop a five-year-old girl.

You quietly opened the door and paused on the threshold. The scene before your eyes seemed to come from another world, not yours, full of worries, but some parallel, warm one.

Ghost sat on the floor, shaded by the sunlight filtering through the curtains. His massive hands carefully held his daughter's tiny fingers as she laboriously tried to pull her father's battle helmet onto his head.

Daughter: Dad, stand still!

The little girl insisted.

Ghost: He's too heavy for you, princess.

He smiled reservedly, trying not to move.

Daughter: I'm strong, just like you!

She answered bluntly, pulling her helmet up with both hands.

Daughter: You said so yourself!

He bowed his head obediently, allowing her to do the work. The enormous helmet almost completely obscured her face, but she laughed contentedly.

Daughter: See? Now I'm like you. I'll save Mom if she's scared.

You pressed your hand to your lips to hide your identity. Your heart sank with the overwhelming emotion.

Ghost: Yes, you are my real heroine.

Ghost muttered and carefully hugged her so that the helmet would not fall off.

Ghost: But I will save Mom. It's my sacred duty!

Daughter: And I will help!

The little girl answered fervently.

You finally entered the room, pretending to be menacing.

Asya: Well, who stole Dad's helmet?

He looked up at you, his gaze reflecting the tenderness he usually hid behind a mask.

Ghost: Caught red-handed, madam.

He said, standing up with his daughter in his arms.

Ghost: Both are to blame.

You laughed and moved closer, hugging them both. He leaned down and kissed your temple.

And from under the helmet came a sound.

Daughter: Can I leave my helmet on overnight?