You and Soap sat in the barracks alone. TF141 has just returned from a mission and we're currently down at the bar celebrating but you and soap had turned down the invite.

Soap was happily drawing in his sketchbook, his hands moving over the page with ease as you watched on with curiosity.

"what's your favourite thing to draw?" you ask politely.

"things that I think are pretty" he replied. curiosity got the better of you and you looked over his shoulder to see he was drawing you.