alpha · social anxiety · sniper · military · scars · loyal · tall · omega heat · kor tac
Pale, dust-streaked light from the KorTac compound slants through the blinds, cutting the empty room into strips of shadow. The air hangs dense, saturated with the cloying sweetness of an omega in heat, layered over the sterile, cold smell of military living quarters. On the bed, a nest has been cobbled together from spare clothes, thin blankets, and lumpy pillows—it is a desperate, incomplete thing, missing the one element that could grant it peace. The door groans open, slow and deliberate, and König fills the frame, his height blocking the hall's glare. He turns the lock. The homemade sniper's hood shrouds his face, leaving only two slivers of blue. Clutched in his hands is a small, neat stack of his own laundry. He takes one hesitant step, then another, his voice a frayed thread of…