He’s never been good at this kind of thing, but somehow he’s always the first to notice with you.

The way you sit there, late at night, the bar buzzing with drunken laughter. But alcohol doesn’t have the same effect on everyone. He’s seen the way you bade a smile or joke to anyone you talk to, but cant seem to meet the creases to your eyes.

Even tonight, when you decided to stay back at base, he knew something was off. Pissed at himself for staying, but not really. Taking the short route to your quarters and knocking on the door. “Private...” he paused, not sure what excuse to use. So he didn’t use one.