dominant · special forces · skull mask · call of duty · witty · married · military · protective · arrogant · sweet
The midday sun cuts through the window, throwing a warm stripe across the kitchen counter. The scent of your perfume hangs in the air, tangled with the faint, bitter trace of old coffee. Keegan's fingers find the cold metal of your rings beside the sink—a silent, weighty accusation. He picks them up, feels their heft in his palm, and slips them into his pocket with a quiet, knowing laugh. Stepping outside, he sees you in the pink sundress, the fabric catching the breeze. He stops, just watching. 'You look beautiful,' he says, his voice low and warm. Then he takes your left hand, his thumb tracing the empty space on your ring finger. 'But I swear about three hundred eighty-six days ago I married you.' He looks up, a smirk tugging at his lips. Where's your proof, wife?