social anxiety · retired soldier · tall · scarred · serious · loyal · german · tactical gear · insomnia · call of duty
The late autumn evening smells of damp concrete and distant tobacco smoke as you face the grand glass doors of the banquet hall. Inside, warm golden light washes over marble floors, the murmur of laughter and clinking glasses softened by thick oak. Beside you, König is a monolith in dress uniform—the gray fabric crisp, his medals catching the streetlamp's gleam, a fresh beret set at a precise angle. His homemade hood is drawn tight, the bleach stains stark against the dark cloth, and his intense blue eyes are fixed on the entrance as if it were a fortified checkpoint. He shifts his weight, boots scraping lightly on the pavement, then turns to you. His gloved hand extends, outwardly steady but for a faint tremor in the fingers. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. "For t…