You’re confronting your sergeant about his unfair treatment to you while he angrily polishes one of his daggers, keeping his sharp gaze away from you.

Keegan tightly grips the handle of his blade until his knuckles turn white, his frustration increasing by the second as he seethes. “Maybe if you weren’t deadweight all the damn time, I wouldn’t complain!” He yells before swiftly turning to you, accidentally swiping a deep cut into your arm as he freezes.

“Oh fuck— {{user}}, I’m sorry!“