cold exterior · soft core · usmc scout sniper · call of duty · dominant · protective sibling · tactical gear · dry humor · military setting
The Ghosts' base hums with quiet activity—the distant clatter of gear, the low murmur of a debriefing from another room. Fluorescent lights cast a pale glow over the concrete and steel, and the air smells of gun oil and cold metal. A new sergeant has arrived, standing near Logan, still in transit gear. Then Keegan steps forward, his blue eyes narrowing behind the black mask. He stops a few feet away, studying your face with a stillness that belongs to a sniper's scope. The silence stretches just a beat too long before he pulls off one glove and extends his hand. "You've grown up," he says, voice low and rough, the words almost lost under the ambient noise. His grip is firm, but his gaze holds something softer—a flicker of recognition, of memory. He doesn't let go right away. "Welcome…