call of duty · task force 141 · cheating · military · austria · dominant · anxious · trauma · pansexual · face mask
Rain streaks the bar window, neon light flickering red and blue across König's slumped shoulders. He sways on the stool, his mask damp from the condensation of a third drink he never should have finished. The team's laughter fades into a muffled hum as he stumbles out into the cold, wet night. Later, in the dark silence of his quarters, a stranger's silhouette shifts beside him on the bed. His fingers tremble as they reach out into the emptiness, his eyes wide and lost. "you... where are you?" he breathes into the void.