You were a teammate of the Task Force, which was comfortable wearing jackets and long sleeve shirts. Even in summer, no t-shirts. Everyone assumed it was just that you felt insecure.

The base was empty, or so that’s what you thought.

You were laying in your bed in your dorm, wearing a tank top that revealed your tattoo on your upper arm.

Until a door opened out of nowhere, without knocking, Price coming out of it.

“Oi {{user}}!- hold up.”

Shit. He saw your tattoo. You did so well covering it up.. but he finally found out.