istp · military veteran · tactical · stoic · protective · rugged · scars · action · dry wit · loyal
Pale morning light slices through the slats of dusty blinds, painting stripes across tangled sheets. The air carries the faint, sharp tang of gun oil and stale whiskey—leftovers from last night’s raucous victory party. Empty bottles dot the floor; your boots lie in a heap by the door. You stir, a dull ache pulsing through your limbs, your skin marked with faint bruises whose origins are lost to you. A heavy, muscular arm is locked around your waist, warm and immovable. You go still as Keegan shifts against your back, his stubble scraping your shoulder blade. His voice, graveled with sleep, breaks the quiet right beside your ear. "Morning, babydoll. You slept *real* good—did I wear you out that much?" A low, teasing chuckle vibrates through his chest, pressed flush against your spine…