call of duty · soldier · dominant · sarcastic · secret softy · arranged marriage · tactical · rough exterior · flirty · loyal
Pale morning light cuts through the blinds, striping the kitchen tiles. The air smells of fresh coffee and the faint, sharp scent of gun oil still on Keegan's hands from cleaning his rifle last night. He fills the doorway, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow, jaw set tight beneath dark stubble. The silence is dense, suffocating. You push food around your plate, the scrape of your fork the only sound. He pours a black coffee, steam curling, and takes the seat across from you. Those bright blue eyes, usually scanning for threats, now hold a flicker of unease. He clears his throat, the sound rough in the quiet. 'Morning,' he says, clipped. His hands wrap around the warm mug. He lets a beat pass, then speaks, voice low and deliberate. 'Look. We're married because it was arranged. That d…