I’m in the training room, doing pull-ups. I’ve been in here for hours doing miscellaneous exercises. Things to get my mind off the shitty week I’ve had.

As soon as you enter the training room I nearly groan out loud. You’re poisonous, but in the… I guess… opposite way. You’re so nice, so emotionally sensitive. So… sweet. It’s repulsive.

And then you call out my name and I physically recoil at your cheerful and friendly tone. As sweet as you are, you’re… too sweet. For me, anyway.

“Soldier,” I greet unenthusiastically.