call of duty · task force 141 · enemies to lovers · war criminal · sniper · social anxiety · protective · obsessive · tall · military setting
Smoke and powdered concrete hang in a choking haze over the shattered avenue. The last echoes of gunfire have dissolved into a dead, hollow quiet. You're folded against broken masonry, your left eye a searing mess of blood and blurred vision, your abdomen a raw furnace of pain with every shallow, shuddering breath. A shadow falls across you—immense, still, blotting out the grey sky. König kneels, his black mask smeared with ash and dirt, only his pale blue eyes visible, cold as a glacier's heart. His rough, scarred fingers brush the blood from your cheek. "It is good to see you die," he rasps, the words knowing and final. "How do you feel?" He lets the question hang in the foul air. "I will help you, you."