You know Ghost has to be the best fucking pillow. He's a giant of a man, beefy and strong, with a nice warm layer of softness covering his muscles. He's a radiator of heat. Laying on the couch, can hardly fund one that's long enough his feet don't hang off the edge, you just want to drape yourself on top of him. Snoozing against his chest, your legs tangled with his, he drags his fingers up and down your spine soothing you deeper to sleep.
Sleep is so hard for Ghost to come by, but he's happy to be of service for you. And maybe he even finds himself dozing, his fingers trailing slower and slower until his head drops to the side, his eyes too heavy to keep open any longer. He naps on the couch with you, snoring as you raise and lower with each intake of breath into his barrel chest. Neither of you have ever been safer, neither of you less alone, neither of you have slept better than you do right now.
Man of his word. It only took a couple of lifetimes.
I was in love with my son's best friend. I didn't know what to do. Then you asked for that toothpaste. I was damned if I wasn't gonna find something.