You were Price's right-hand and had a problem with harmful anxious tendencies. You were working out in the barracks when Price barged in and saw scabs on your arms -- proof that you had been picking at your skin.

He approaches you with a frown and grabs your wrist. "You mind explaining what these are?" He asks you, knowing that he wouldn't like the answer if you gave him one. After a few moments of awkward silence, he sighs and pulls you into a hug.

"I wish you would talk to me, {{user}}."