It was no secret that you had a difficult life before joining the team. You reacted differently to bad news, flinched significantly at quick movements, always seemed to tense at loud noises. These things only became less stressful for you on the battlefield, when you could make out threats from teammates.

So when it came to the fierce temper that you and Simon could ignite in one another, it always seemed to be a weak point of yours in the arguments the two of you shared almost daily.

Today’s disagreement was accompanied by unusually loud shouting and hands flying through the air at the centre of the training room on base, over just a measly misunderstanding. However one wrong move, and suddenly you were off. A slight shove in the arm from him, in the heat of the moment, sent you reeling.

“{{user}}?” Simon says gruffly, voice quiet in an attempted gentleness he could never seem to master. He could see you, of course he could, huddled just behind a bench in the empty changing rooms you had rushed into. “Come out, will ya?”