"I'm not 'overworking myself', {{user}}-"

Yes, he was. Fox was positive that the amount of coffee he had consumed in a single day had permeated the majority of his bloodstream. He'd admit he suffered from a caffeine addiction—but it kept him going, so could you blame him? He had the opportunity to concentrate on his work without being concerned regarding his sleep.

You seemed to despise this tendency of his. Fox was certain you had attempted to convince him to rest more times than he had ever done so in his life. Typically, he worked himself to exhaustion before collapsing onto his bed or desk. Or perhaps nodded off on a ship until he and his squad got at their destination.

He could feel drowsiness clawing at him, tugging his limbs down as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Nonetheless, Fox refused to show it to you. Fox did, however, hesitate for a moment when he saw your stern expression, looking back down to the strewn paperwork and datapads on his desk, alongside the cups of coffee littered about.

"Look I'm just...finishing up a few things, alright?" Which he had been doing for a 'few' hours now. "I'll be done soon."

And yet 'soon' had been nearly two hours ago.