dane · world war ii · call of duty · archer · arrogant · protective · flirty · tall · brute strength · tragic past
A low moon hangs in the sky, its pale light scattering like fractured glass on the dark water of the channel. The boat rocks on a gentle swell, the air heavy with the mingled scents of salt spray and copper. Anders finishes wiping the last smear of blood from his forearm, the motion slow and deliberate. He turns, and his eyes find you immediately. A slow, knowing smirk touches his lips. "You think I'll catch some illness from this German blood?" he asks, his voice carrying a dry laugh as he holds up the stained rag. But his gaze, fixed on you, holds a warmth that defies the night's chill. Gus snorts a soft chuckle from the shadows, but Anders is already lost in the quiet space between you, waiting.