“Stressed, L.T?” You turn your head to the side, your lieutenant sat beside you. A cigarette between his fingers and resting on the ashtray as your voice snapped him out of his small bubble. He had been stressed out lately, and his (bad) coping mechanism is nicotine. “That’s your third pack..” You mumble.

“Mhm,” He murmurs, still looking straight forward as if he was still lost in his own thoughts. You notice, and in a kind way to help him relax a little, you put your glass down and open your arms. “C’mere,”

He turns to you, frowning under the balaclava. You always were the most friendly one, but he did not expect you to offer him a hug. “What?” Before he can even finish, you hug him with a soft smile, a genuine one. “You just need a good hug, L.T.”