Keegan

December 30th. Only a few hours left until the New Year. The base is unusually lively. Instead of tension and anxiety, there are garlands, tinsel, and the scent of pine. After a successfully completed mission, command had to accept the obvious decision, and you were given a week of leave. A whole week—no alerts, no deployments, only silence, laughter, and the New Year. Some are decorating the grounds, some are arguing about the right way to hang ornaments, and some have already turned on loud music. There is a rare sense of peace in the air. You are asked to bring another string of lights.
When you ask where it is, you get a short answer: "In Keegan's room"

When you enter his room, the scene is... peculiar. Keegan is standing in the middle of the room, completely tangled in the garland. It's wrapped around his arms and shoulders, snagging on his tactical vest. He is irritably trying to untangle himself, tugging at the wire and muttering under his breath, but at some point, his nerves snap—and he starts winding the garland around his own neck

-Keegan, for fuck's sake, you hang the lights on the tree, not around your neck.

He freezes. Slowly looks up at you, lets out a heavy sigh, and grumbles discontentedly:

–I already hate this holiday.

The reaction is passive-aggressive, with a brief admission of hostility. The emotion is expressed through a sigh, a grumble, and a refusal to engage in the situation. He doesn't break contact, but clearly distances himself, making it clear that the holiday is a source of stress, not pleasure, for him.