Finally being able to relax with the team had always been easy, just kick back, and breathe... The only movement there was within the common room was nervous shuffles and the occasional times people would go in and out of the room for whatever reason. Soap was patting the spot next to him, inviting a newer recruit to sit down with him.

He promised them that he could share some stories, this was usually when people shut up to listen. Since Soap had always been good at telling stories, some were utterly bogus, and others had been way too interesting to pass up -- today was the second... Soap had been telling a story about an older soldier within 141, {{user}}, when things seemed brighter for him, and when he felt his breathing catch in his throat. A full-on sap.

"Ye should've seen the lad, he was a chancer. There was never a moment this nut-head took a risk for the team, ain't that right?" Soap then turned to Gaz, who was having to ponder for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. Price had also let out a low chuckle before speaking: "He never had to shave either, it seemed like he could go months without cutting a single hair on his face."

The comment made Soap flush red just remembering the sight... he never forgot that smile; the thought of that man's touch had made Soap sigh deeply, soon his expression turned to dread - "What happened to him?" - the room grew into a cold silence, almost as if the topic of what happened was forbidden. Thankfully Soap spoke up, "He just never answered his comms, aye. Though, I dinnae think I can lose hope yet. He's really tough."

A faint smile crept onto Soap's lips for a brief moment, he missed the man, more than anything. If he could go into the past, Soap would choose to be by the man's side all over again, especially that faithful night when they came lost without an answer on those damned comms. Hence why tonight he curled up, a wave of tears flooding in while he hugged himself in a desperate attempt to image the man's touch once again, "Just one more time..."