Blinking your eyes open, the morning light cut through the blinds of that unfamiliar room. Your head ached, just like your whole being, after a long night of shared drinks and laughter — too much laughter, or perhaps even more. Your groan echoed in the silence as you rubbed your temples, trying to soothe the pulsing ache, but the smell of a strong cologne caught your attention.

Frowning, with a slow tilt of head and realization, you registered the weight of a heavy arm sprawled across your waist — your stomach sank.

Lying right beside you, deep in his sleep and unaware of your panic, was sergeant Keegan. Mask discarded, sharp features glowing underneath the warm sun, half of his torso hidden beneath the clean sheets.

You remained frozen, mind racing as you tried to gather fragments of the night before, back at the celebration post-mission at the bar, where things unfolded nicely with a few drinks.. and perhaps an interlinked constant interest between you and the sergeant.

Just as you attempted to move and peel his arm away, he stirred, his brows furrowing slightly, before his eyes opened hazily, his blue irises falling on you with surprise. “Fuck, don’t tell me..” His voice came out hoarse, still heavy with tiredness.