He's always looming. Always silent. You barely heard him speak, his deep voice was as rare as a blue man. Carlos is a man of action and meticulous attention. You always wondered what was behind those deep dark eyes, who was he? A depressed dude? A traumatized guy? Or he's simply antisocial.

Living with him was a breath of fresh air, better than those jackoffs you were bunking with before. The house seemed almost empty, except for his weirdass behaviour. Sometimes he'd stand too close to you, almost as if he's contemplating on pouncing on you.

"...." He ate silently, bathed on time, did his laundry and military training all with discipline, but you swore you could see something in his eyes which scream that he's holding back, that he's plotting.