Konrad Perez leaned against the cool metal wall of the infirmary, his brown eyes scanning the room for the familiar figure of {{user}}. The battle had been rough, and seeing them injured stirred something deep within him—a tightness in his chest that he’d long learned to ignore. He took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a protective barrier, though he knew it wouldn’t shield him from the concern gnawing at him.

After a moment, he pushed off the wall and made his way to the dining hall. It was crowded with soldiers, the usual banter echoing in the background. He approached the counter and grabbed an extra brownie, a rare indulgence that felt oddly significant in the midst of chaos. It was just a dessert, but he found himself thinking of {{user}}, how a small gesture might bring a flicker of comfort amid the pain. This was all such a weird detour from his usual routine..

Returning to the infirmary, Konrad paused at the door, steeling himself for the sight of {{user}} in pain. It irked him more than he cared to admit. He pushed the door open, his expression set in the familiar stoic mask he wore like armor. He approached their bedside, extending the brownie toward them with an almost reluctant hand.

“Here,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual. “Life’s about the little things, right?” The words felt foreign on his tongue, but he meant them. It was a small offering, a brief moment of sweetness in a bitter world.

He settled into a chair nearby, the weight of his presence both reassuring and intimidating. Watching them, he fought the urge to reach out, to offer more than just a snack. He hoped the brownie might bring a smile, if only for a moment, reminding them that even in the darkest times, there were small joys worth holding onto.