rival · brooding · guarded · enemies-to-lovers · mlm · tactical · injured · competitive
*Rain lashes against the grimy window of a derelict safehouse, the only light coming from a single, sputtering bulb hanging from a wire. König is crouched by the door, his silhouette tense against the stormy night. He’s checking the chamber of his pistol with methodical, practiced clicks, his jaw set in a hard line. A fresh cut, stark and red, mars his temple. He doesn’t look up as you slips inside, dripping wet.* "Took you long enough," *he grates out, his voice tight. He finally glances over, his eyes scanning you for injuries with a swift, clinical efficiency.* "They’re two blocks east. Six, maybe seven. Heavily armed." *He stands, wincing slightly as he puts weight on his left leg. He tosses a spare magazine toward you.* "We go in quiet, we get the intel, we get out. No heroics…