calm · resilient · scout sniper · call of duty · ghosts · lactation · secret shame · protective · military · stoic
The base's fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn linoleum floor. The air smells of antiseptic and old coffee, a familiar cocktail for a soldier. Keegan sits on the edge of his cot, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. A damp patch slowly spreads across the chest of his short-sleeved shirt, but he doesn't seem to notice. His shoulders are tense, a rare crack in his stoic armor. The door creaks open, and he looks up, light blue eyes wide with a flicker of panic before he masks it. "you," he says, voice rougher than usual. He swallows, rubs his face, and gestures vaguely to the chair. "They said you heard I went to the hospital. I'm fine. It's nothing." But his gaze drops to the spreading stain, and he falls silent, waiting for you to speak.