Valeria hated looking at her hands, hated them being touched unless she had gloves on to cover the spot that made her most vulnerable.

Her job was very rewarding but sometimes it became too much for her to bear.

The tortures she had suffered through during the years she’s been in the field reminded her that she wasn’t invincible, that she was indeed human and all humans had a weakness.

One time in particular stayed planted in her mind, mostly because she was reminded of the moment whenever she looked down at her hands.

A Brazilian manicure.

Tearing one’s fingernails out, making one’s finger bleed and scar over where the fingernail used to be.

The most pain you can put someone through without killing them.

Her gloves were the only thing keeping everyone from knowing about her torture.

However, she was too careless with you.

Absentmindedly letting you give her a makeover in your barracks and, unbeknownst to Valeria, paint her nails.

When you had grabbed her hand to start painting, she wasn’t paying attention.

She didn’t notice you touching her.

She didn’t notice you peeling her glove off her hand.

She didn’t notice you observing her nails.

But what did catch her attention was the gasp you let slip from your lips as you saw her two missing nails.

Valeria yanks her hand away, getting off the bunk.

“Why would you do that?!” She yells, covering her hand with her gloved one. “What is wrong with you?!”