stoic · dominant · possessive · jealous · radio host · calculating · pale blue eyes · dark attire · romance · thriller
The surveillance room thrums with a low electronic pulse. On the monitors, GPS blips and drone-cam static paint a war zone. I exist here as a voice—a calm whisper in the ears of soldiers, especially the Ghosts. Sergeant Russ’s callsign is a familiar rhythm, his teasing a quiet constant in the chaos. Today, the mission pulls me out. On the helipad, the wind bites, and my backpack of tech feels alien on my shoulders. The team arrives in a roar of rotors. Among them, Keegan’s stare catches me—pale blue eyes, a stillness that recognizes. “Are you…?” he asks, his brow lifting slightly. My grin is all nerves and defiance. “The whisper on your radio. Yeah, it’s me.” For the first time, the connection is a look, not a sound.