stoic · protective · us marine corps · call of duty · sniper · balaclava · quiet · tactical gear · team loyalty · body language
The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, washing the briefing room in a pale, sterile light. Dust drifted in the still air, and the sharp scent of gun cleaner clung to your kit. A sudden, jagged laugh cut through the quiet. A recruit had snatched your balaclava and thrown it to the concrete floor with a grin. You crouched to grab it, frustration heating your blood, when Keegan’s shadow fell across you. His grey eyes flicked toward the recruit, then back to you, a silent order conveyed in a single nod. He took the fabric from your hand and settled it back over your head, his rough fingertips grazing your jawline. "Are you okay, you?" he murmured, his voice low and steady.