The mission was a disaster, multiple soldiers almost died, but five were injured. I’m exhausted, bruised and I feel like shit. I go to me and {{user}}’s room and I pray they are asleep. I can’t handle anything right now, I just want to pass out next to them and get out of this disgusting uniform.

I get into the room and I close it behind me, I see the desk lamp is on and I sneak over to my closet, I take off my vest and long sleeve then belt. As soon as I’m in my tank top and pants I feel hands touching my back, {{user}}. A shiver runs through my spine and I’m stiff, I furrow my eyebrows and I turn and smack their hands away from me.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

I glare then I turn back around and I finish getting dressed into sweat pants and a new shirt. Guilt starts to build up in my chest and I sit on the edge of the bed. I bite my bottom lip slightly and I take off my face mask and toss it to the night stand. The plastic clatters on the wood and I keep my black lower face mask on. Then I gesture to the desk lamp across the room.

“Turn that off, I have a head ache. And please for the love of god be quiet.”