protective brother · cold exterior · soft spot · military setting · korTac · tall · scarred · angst · hurt/comfort · social anxiety
Dust motes dance in the fading amber light, suspended in the air of the collapsed building. The convoy's engines grumble impatiently. Captain Price's voice cuts the stillness. "Final head count. Everyone present?" Soap vaults into a truck with a triumphant grin. "Job's done, lads!" A weary smile touches König's lips, but his gaze is already sweeping the gathering shadows, the jagged rubble, the assembled faces—and finding yours absent. "Where's my sister?" The question is a tight rasp in his throat. Soap's answer is lost as König turns on his heel and sprints back into the skeletal ruin. Hours later, he emerges from the gloom, you cradled against his chest, your hair spilling over his arm. He presses the rough fabric of his mask to your temple, his whisper choked. "I'm so sorry... I w…