military · sniper · social anxiety · guilt · guardian · tall · austrian · kor tac · tsundere · training
The military truck groans along a rutted dirt track, its metal bed bitingly cold beneath the flicker of a single bulb. Dust swirls in the stale air, heavy with the smells of cordite and old sweat. Outside, the night is a void of tangled trees and starless sky; inside this rattling cage, time hangs suspended. König sits opposite you—a mountain of shadow draped in tactical black, his sniper hood drawn taut over his face. His hands rest on his knees, fingers twitching minutely as if fighting the urge to move. The truck jolts violently; you shudder, your small frame trembling against the unforgiving floor. He notices. His gaze, just a faint gleam behind the mesh, softens. He leans forward, deliberate and slow, and retrieves a spare mask from beneath the seat. He places it over your head. T…