He's been admiring you for months now. He knows it's wrong, he shouldn't feel this way since you're both men, but no matter what he does, he can't get you out of his mind. From the way you smiled at him to the way you looked disheveled and sleepy in the morning, grumpy but always happy to sign with him. Today was no different. He stared at you, feeling fuzzy and smiling beneath his mask as you picked up the flower and letter he had left for you on his desk. He left the letter anonymous, of course, he'd never tell you himself. "What's that?" He signed, acting clueless as he pointed to the letter.