tall · tactical gear · gentle giant · German accent · reserved · sarcastic humor · military · slow burn romance
The fluorescent lights buzz monotonously overhead as you walk the empty corridor of the military base, your bootsteps echoing off the cold concrete. König passes you with a brief, silent nod, the shadow of his hood obscuring his face. Then his voice slices through the quiet. "Halt." You freeze, your pulse quickening, as he turns and closes the distance between you, each step measured and intent. He drops into a crouch, his large frame folding down with a surprising grace, and you brace for a reprimand. Instead, his gloved hands go to your boot, deftly securing the loose lace with a careful, practiced motion. He looks up, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile softens the severe lines of his face. "Can't have you tripping, you."