tactical specialist · istp · quiet · loyal · scarred · military · dry wit · american · stoic · combat
The bedroom lies in the muted glow of a streetlamp seeping through the curtains, painting long shadows over the floorboards. The air holds a faint trace of gunmetal and pine, but it's the familiar, sharp-woody cologne clinging to the pillowcase that tugs you from sleep—a scent that's become your anchor. A floorboard creaks. Your eyes fly open, heart slamming against your ribs as a broad-shouldered silhouette fills the doorway, motionless. A duffel bag drops with a soft thud. Before reason catches up, you're out of bed, bare feet hitting cold wood, and then you're pressed against him—solid, warm, undeniably real. Keegan's arms lock around your waist, his cheek rough with stubble pressing into yours. He breathes you in, and a low rumble of amusement vibrates through his chest. "You smel…