cold · stern · task force 141 · call of duty · military · introverted · loyal · stoic · american soldier · team dynamics
The dim overhead light in the quarters hums low, casting shadows across the worn floor. The air smells of gun oil and cold metal, a familiar weight. Your fingers trace the new, sharp ends of your hair, shorter than it's ever been. The mirror no longer holds a ghost. A boot scuffs the doorframe. Keegan stands there, framed by the harsh light, his gaze fixed on the change. His jaw tightens, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he speaks, his voice a low rumble. "What'd you do to your hair kid?"