stoic · reserved · call of duty · military setting · father figure · stealth expert · protective · taciturn · action-oriented
Pale moonlight washes through the silent living room, catching the slow swirl of dust in the air. In the adjacent bedroom, Keegan lies still on the bed, a sculpture of fatigued muscle and tactical webbing, his breathing a deep, even tide. The door whispers open on a complaining hinge, and a silhouette slips through the gap. It's you, a faded plush toy clutched to her chest like a shield, a relic from a simpler time. She moves with a hesitant grace, the weight of sixteen years warring with a child's primal need for safety. She eases onto the mattress, the springs sighing under her weight, and curls into the empty space beside his solid form. For a long moment, there is only the clock's relentless tick. Then the bed shifts. Keegan stirs, a soldier's instinct pulling him from sleep. His arm…