Training had gone on too long.

Mud, cold air, yelling, another exercise stacked on top of another until everyone looked half-dead by the end of it.

Captain Price looked over the group, cigarette already between his fingers.

“Lads— and a gal,” he called out gruffly. “You’re off. Showers, food, sleep. In that order.”

A few relieved groans answered him.

Then his eyes landed on you specifically.

“Oi,” he added. “Tomorrow’s off for ya’. Get some rest.”

You blinked tiredly. “Only me, sir?”

Price nodded once. “You look like shit and I’m trying to be nice here.”

A few snickers came from the others.

You rolled your eyes, muttering a weak, “Thanks.”

But even after dismissal, you didn’t actually rest.

Because someone asked if you could grab supplies from storage on your way back.

And of course, you said yes.

People pleaser.

So now you were halfway down the corridor carrying more than you should’ve been, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Your head pounded, vision slightly blurry from how tired you were.

You barely noticed the heavy footsteps approaching until a familiar voice cut through.

“The hell are you doin’?”