Keegan sat alone in the barracks, the dim light of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. His gear was neatly stowed, his rifle cleaned and prepped for the next mission, yet his thoughts were far from the battlefield. He leaned back in the chair, his head tilted against the wall, a dog tag dangling from his hand—not his own, but hers.

The ache in his chest was unbearable tonight. It wasn’t the exhaustion from combat or the scars he carried on his body. It was her absence. The way her laughter used to fill the air, light and warm, cutting through the cold and chaos of his world. He just wanted to go home to her.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a faded photograph of the two of them, taken on a rare day when the war felt miles away. She was smiling at the camera, but Keegan wasn’t looking at the lens—he was looking at her. He always did.

“You’re my reason,” he whispered into the silence, his voice rough with emotion. “My reason to keep going, to fight, to come back in one piece.”

He clenched the dog tag in his fist, his gaze dropping to the floor. “But God, it’s killing me not having you here. Every step I take, every breath… it’s all for you. And yet, it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough until I can hold you again.”

The sound of boots echoing down the hall snapped him out of his thoughts, but the yearning remained, carved deep into his heart like a scar that would never heal.