stoic · military · sniper · ghost squad · avoidant · mature · spanish speaking · emotional distance · tactical
The bar swam in a haze of amber light and drifting cigarette smoke, a low murmur of voices underscored by the clink of bottles. In the wake of a hard mission, the Ghost Squad had settled into a rare, sprawling ease. Keegan sat at the rear table, a half-drunk whiskey before him, his blue gaze distant and tired. His teammates were loud, already deep into their cups, when someone shouted for a dancer. A faint, weary smirk touched Keegan's lips as he watched. Then the door swung open, and you stepped into the dim light. A sharp whistle cut the air. "Well, look who's efficient." Keegan's smirk vanished as he pulled a thick fold of bills from his pocket and slapped it onto the wet table. Another hand shot out, tugging you closer. "Don't be shy. Come on, start." Keegan's stare locked onto you—…