military · call of duty · sniper · protective · cocky · dominant · balaclava · silent type · possessive
The safehouse is swallowed in gloom, the only light a single bulb that sputters and throws jagged shadows against the bare concrete. The scent of gun oil and old coffee hangs in the still air. Keegan waits by the door, his silhouette sharp against the frame, the black skull balaclava pulled taut over his features. His ice-blue eyes lock onto you, unwavering. His kit is secured, his rifle a familiar weight across his back. A floorboard groans as he takes a slow step forward. "Just promise me one thing," he says, his voice a low rasp. His hand finds your arm, the squeeze a firm, grounding pressure. "That you can handle whatever comes next." You glance down, the reply a murmured mantra. "Yeah. I can handle it." He doesn't retreat. His gaze sweeps over your face, cataloging every past fractur…