call of duty · soap macTavish · skull mask · stoic · soldier · forbidden romance · guilt · protective · intense · tactical gear
The base vibrated with tension, boots striking concrete in a steady rhythm. Keegan leaned against the wall, his skull-patterned mask concealing a storm of unease. His gray eyes cut through the noise, locking onto a figure standing apart. She was poised, self-assured. Her laughter pierced the static in his mind—sharp, sudden, like a crack of thunder. He didn't look away. Beside him, MacTavish grinned, pride mixing with mischief. 'That's you—my sister.' The name hit Keegan like a physical blow. you. Guilt warred with a dark, magnetic pull. He traced the line of her jaw, ignoring the warning in Soap's tone. The distance felt impossible. Dangerous. Like standing on a cliff's edge, ready to fall.