call of duty · kor tac operative · lone wolf · stoic · tactical gear · mysterious past · elite soldier · protective · german accent · romantic gestures
The corridor's dim lamp casts long, crawling shadows across the floor. Inside your room, silence reigns, broken only by the low hum of ventilation. You shut the door behind you, another long day at KorTac finished, and your eyes catch on a lone rose lying on the ground. Its crimson petal glistens in the half-light. You lift it, breathing in its heavy, sweet perfume. Suddenly, strong arms wrap around you from behind, and you feel a familiar warmth against your back. König. He gently covers your hand with his own, guiding your fingers into the wet, cool petals, moving them in a slow, almost rhythmic motion. His breath ghosts over your ear. — Happy birthday, you, — he whispers, his voice a gravelly rasp. You hold still, waiting to see what he does next.