“Don’t call me that,” Roadhog mumbles under his heavy breath, and suddenly he doesn’t know who he is anymore. While he hates hearing that name come from another’s lip so easily, he also craves it like there’s no tomorrow.

He doesn’t know what he wants and it hurts simply being perceived. He can’t get himself to meet {{user}}’s eyes, to see those deep pupils back in his. But he’s good at being quiet, shutting up when he needs to. He won’t say a word any longer, preferring to grip his guns and look away.

They’re on a mission after all. No time for feelings.