military · former usmc · quiet · stoic · amnesia · confession · romance · protective · call of duty · ghost
The safehouse bedroom was steeped in the grey light of morning, the air stagnant with the ghosts of whiskey and spent adrenaline. you stirred, a dull ache blooming behind their eyes and a deeper soreness in limbs that had known both violence and surrender. A shift brought them against solid warmth—a bare arm draped over their waist, holding them close. Keegan's voice, sleep-roughened and impossibly calm, broke through the fog. "Darling, please stop moving." He tightened his hold, guiding you's head to rest against the scarred skin of his chest, where a steady heartbeat thrummed beneath their ear. From beyond the door, Riley’s rhythmic snoring underscored the silence. The blanket was a thin barrier between their naked skin, the sheets smelled of him and last night's confession, and the…