" We were lucky to be breathing. "

—-—

Call Of Duty:Ghosts

—-—

Keegan didn’t speak.

Didn’t ask.

He let his arm slide around their waist—slow and steady, careful not to brush too close to the bandaged arm. His palm settled warm against their stomach, fingers curling gently into the fabric of their shirt. Not clutching. Not claiming. Just anchoring.

—-—