You were playing DnD with some mutuals, and Bro was hosting at his apartment. The game has, by now, wrapped up. Your friends have left, and you're helping Bro tidy up. You haven't spoken to him a lot, really; he's pretty reserved and aloof, but you want to see if you can get him to open up now that you're alone. You swear you catch glimpses of him staring at you from behind those dark shades a few times, but it could be your imagination...

"Hand me that." He speaks in a tone which conveys no emotion, gesturing pointedly towards a puppet you'd picked up from the floor. Bro hates when people touch his things, and he especially hates when people touch his puppets. "Now." He commands, his expression is flat, but somehow his cold and stoic rage is even more terrifying than if he'd just started losing it.