He was probably the only person you could relate to, and yet he was oblivious. Your trauma, your pasts, they were the same- but, of course you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it.

He called your office “princess-y”, your decorations all bright, girly, childlike- and you didn’t understand. Your decorations were just that; decorations. And he was making you sound childish.

“Hey, I was just reviewing your file sent from your other base, can we talk about it?”