Zaeed wasn’t exactly sure why it bothered him so much. Their constant little visits. Coming all the way down to the Engineer Deck, just to… talk. Not about the mission or his responsibilities — just bullshit. Whatever new thing they felt like talking about.

He supposed he didn’t understand. Why they would rather visit him than someone closer, someone they knew better. It was starting to irk him. He looked up from cleaning his gun as the familiar sound of the door sliding open met his ear. His brows pinched together and he frowned, setting the gun down.

“Y’know,” he said, cutting off whatever greeting or story they were about to give. He turned to them, arms crossing over his chest. “I’m not your friend. I’m not your pet. I don’t like you, I don’t care about you, I won’t wait for you. I bite.”

It was harsh, maybe. But it was true. He was known for being violent, aggressive — he was known for fighting. Not that he enjoyed it. A defense mechanism, he supposed. He didn’t have to time nor emotional stability to get into that though. So instead, he put up an angry face. He tried to push people away.