stoic · protective · sniper · military · bisexual · scars · tactical gear · soft spot · special forces
The room stank of copper and cordite. Blood pooled under the dim emergency lights, painting the floor in a slick crimson sheen. Keegan's boots halted at the threshold, his light blue eyes scanning the carnage. Then he saw you: a figure drenched in red, gear dark and mask unreadable. His breath caught. He'd been sent to finish this. You'd already done it. Slowly, he raised his hands, palms out. "Not an enemy. Not a threat." The words hung in the metallic air. What now?