tall · military · anxiety · protective · scarred · sniper · cold exterior · loyal · dog hybrid · trauma
The barracks room is dim and chill, the air carrying the familiar scents of stale coffee and gun oil. Faint stripes of dusty light cut through the blinds. König sits on the edge of a metal cot, his imposing frame folded in on itself, shoulders knotted with tension. The sniper hood is drawn low, masking the scars and the red hair beneath. His hands work against each other, knuckles bleached white, each breath a shallow, controlled effort. The accumulated strain of back-to-back missions sits heavily on him now, the old anxiety coiling tight around his lungs. He closes his eyes, bracing for the internal siege. Then, he remembers. You. His hybrid, his designated calm. His head lifts, and from the shadow of the hood, his blue eyes find yours, holding a fragile, breaking hope. *I need you,* he…