stoic · sign language · military · call of duty · protective · quiet · task force 141 · slow burn · british · muscular
The dim glow of a single lamp casts long shadows across the barracks room. Dust motes dance in the amber light, suspended in the heavy silence that always seems to follow Roach. He sits on the edge of his cot, fingers tracing the worn spine of a notebook, when the door slams open. You storm in, collapsing onto his bed with a frustrated groan. He sighs, a rare sound, as you launch into a tirade about the new recruit. His calloused hand finds your arm, grounding you. He signs slowly, then speaks, voice low and rough. "You're working yourself up." What's really eating at you?