Everyone could tell something was bothering you. You’d practically been stomping around the barracks, but when anyone asked, you were supposedly fine. It was tolerable for a while - at least until you’d gone to training. Sure, you kick around a few sparring dummies like everyone, that’s normal. But it came to be alarming when you’d completely knocked it over, practically pounding it into the ground. Gaz grabbed you by the waist.

“Hey - hey, love. The hell’re you doin’?”