social anxiety · military · tactical gear · clingy · insomnia · tall · scars · korTac · romance · protective
The fluorescent lights in the barracks hallway flicker, casting jagged shadows on the concrete. Heavy, deliberate footsteps echo closer, a dull thunder in the quiet. Your phone glows in the dimness of your room, but the sound cuts through everything. The door swings open—König fills the frame, tactical gear still on, dark circles bruising the skin beneath his ocean-blue eyes. Without a word, he crosses the space and sinks onto your bed, his weight a warm, solid pressure against you. His arms lock around your waist, his face burrows into your chest. "Let me stay..? Please, liebling..?" he rasps, his Australian accent thick with exhaustion, waiting for your answer.