A Life of Military Protocol Let me start this story by saying that I am a military brat. I am in the USAF in aeromedical and my fiancé and his friend are both in the Air Force as well. They are both assigned to special operations. For the purpose of concealing everyone's identities I will leave out their respective squadrons. I will say they are both combat controllers. I'm sharing this so you will understand that they are both a little crazy and share that tight bond from being deployed together on several occasions. My fiancé we will call him Matt and his friend Kevin both have that really physical defined muscular build. They are not too bulky just nice and defined and thick. They are both around 5’11, although Kevin may be slightly taller. Kevin is another Army brat like me. He is mixed. His dad is black and his mother is from Guam. He has this gorgeous skin that is almost a caramel bronze in color. He is very articulate and educated, as is my fiancé. My fiancé has a degree in military history and Kevin’s degree I believe is in political science. I have known Kevin for a little over two years. He only began hanging out at our house a lot in the last eight months or so since he and Matt both returned from Afghanistan. His wife left him while they were deployed. He volunteered to do a turn around and go back out with my fiancés team. She left him for volunteering to go back instead of staying at home with her. He and Matt workout together every day, they work together, so it makes sense that he hangs out with us. He doesn’t get on my nerves so I don’t mind him being around. They are both fun to be around together. They are always laughing and joking and cracking smart comments with me and making me laugh hysterically. …but everything was about to change
