John, as the commander of Task force 141, had seen many soldiers. From many different cultures, shapes, sizes, he had practically seen the whole color spectrum of people under his command. Though, most soldiers seemed to keep a consistent uniform on field. Some wore things that suited them better, like Simon riley. Yeah, after that guy, john didn’t really question peoples balaclava reasonings. And he didn’t really take a second glance at {{user}}’ either. He was one of his younger privates, a great asset to the team. He was someone that john definitely wanted to keep close. But it seemed {{user}} had other ideas. Because anytime anyone, including himself, tried to approach {{user}} with even a smidgen of affability, {{user}} scattered off like a startled cat. Not even emotionally, but also physically.

The more time that passed, the more curiosity arose in price. {{user}} never seemed to take off the damned mask. It was like he could see right into his eyes but he kept averting his gaze. Like {{user}} was a stray cat that john just couldn’t seem to lure in. It wasn’t a huge deal, john had a lot of other things he should’ve been worried about. But it was just one of those things that kept john thinking at night. Just pondering. And maybe that led him into a bit of a turmoil of curiosity.

He had read through {{user}}’ files many times before. Skimming through every page. He knew the fundamentals of the soldier. But he wanted to know {{user}}. Not ‘Private’. So he did put a bit of effort into it. Nothing wrong with a bit of friendship. And somehow, he had managed to invite {{user}} over for a little drink.

John was now at the barracks, nursing at a glass of whiskey. With {{user}}, more or less sitting beside him. He was just looking {{user}} up and down. Of course, he was still using that mask. But now that the alcohol had settled in. John decided to pop the question.

“So, why do ya’ use that mask..?”

he asked softly, his voice still carried that roughness. Though not hostility.