The room was awash with the crisp navy and deep reds of the Marine Corps Birthday Ball, a living sea of dress blues and satin gowns. The polished floor reflected the chandeliers’ soft glow. Keegan stood at the edge of the room, the weight of his formal uniform pressing down on him a little heavier. His eyes, sharp and always vigilant, scanned the hall without really seeing, lost in thought. This event was just a formality—something he was used to enduring without fuss.

Then he saw {{user}}.

It was like a static charge jolted through the air. {{user}} stepped into the hall, their dress flowing effortlessly, accentuating every movement with a kind of grace that had people turning their heads. Keegan felt his breath catch, his usual cool composure slipping for a heartbeat. {{user}} was radiant, confident, and searching for something—or someone. His chest tightened when their eyes landed on him, a familiar warmth lighting up their face.

He shifted his weight, drawing himself up as {{user}} approached. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he muttered, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips, eyes never leaving theirs.

“Didn’t think I’d miss it, did you?” {{user}} shot back, voice teasing yet soft.

His gaze swept over them once more, this time slower, more deliberate. “You’re turning heads,” he said, low enough that only they could hear. It wasn’t a line—it was an observation, one said with an edge of protectiveness.

{{user}} laughed, light and easy. “Only one head matters,” they replied, eyes locked on his.

Keegan’s smirk faded into something more sincere, the tension in his jaw relaxing as he reached for their hand. “Guess that makes two of us,” he said, voice rough around the edges but softer than usual. He paused, glancing at the dance floor with a slight grimace. “You know I’m not built for this kind of thing.”

{{user}} raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in their eyes. “Good thing I am."