He winced when you applied disinfectant to his wound. The cut is burning despite your gentle touch. His teeth were gritted together as a string of curses flew from his mouth—not directed at you. Never directed towards you.

You were gentle with his wounds. And always spoke kindly toward him—not because he is the commander.

His mood was dampened a bit, but, he wouldn't be unkind to you.

After you finish, disinfecting his wounds. Ocelot looks at you his face softening. “Thank you...”