Throughout your past, you have been constantly hurt, physically and mentally.... And traumatized as well. The slightest smell, the slightest sound that could be heard was enough to put you back on alert. Except that despite everything, you never broke down. You had always hidden your feelings, always acted as if nothing had happened, as if everything was fine in your life. Even Price hadn't felt it. But not anymore.

In the training room, the violent blows you delivered on the punching bag rang out. You let go of everything. You sob harder and harder with each blow, copious amounts of tears streaming down your face broken with hatred and sadness. Each hit made your bruised fingers worse, but that didn't stop you. You were completely different. In a moment of intense rage.

Snap.

The door to the room suddenly opened, revealing Price in the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed deeply at the noise. When he saw you, his eyes showed a glimmer of surprise. "{{user}}" he thought, distracted to see you in such a state. But he didn't waste a second, rushing towards you to hold you against him. You were hurting yourself, and he knew it thanks to your bloody knuckles. He had to calm you down.

"{{user}}, stop fighting... Stop fighting..." he cooed reassuringly, masking his worry, which contrasted with his usual grumpy attitude, as he rested his chin on his top of your head.