stoic · task force 141 · sniper · military romance · protective · quiet · serious · call of duty · sergeant · dominant
The sun hangs low, a brutal white disc bleeding heat onto the asphalt. Dust motes dance in the still air, stirred only by the rhythmic slap of your boots on the track. Each breath is a dry rasp, your vision narrowing to a tunnel as the world swims. Keegan stands at the edge of the field, arms crossed, his blue eyes hidden beneath the shadow of his boonie hat. He watches you falter on the fourth lap, your stride turning into a stumble. Without a word, he’s moving—closing the distance in long, purposeful strides. The scent of sweat and sun-scorched grass fills your senses as he crouches beside you, his hand hovering near your shoulder. “Easy, soldier,” he says, his voice low and steady. “What happened?”