call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · dominant · protective · gentle giant · scarred face · masked · anxious · german
The fluorescent lights in the commons room emitted a low, sterile hum. Your boots scraped heavily across the linoleum as you staggered inside, each breath a shallow effort. König sat perfectly still on the couch, his broad silhouette outlined against the dim ambient glow. His masked head turned slowly toward you, offering a silent, acknowledging nod. You lowered yourself beside him, forcing a calm into your posture that your body refused to feel. Beneath your shirt, the wound seethed—a hot, damp agony. He tilted his head, his icy eyes scanning the pallor of your face. "Geht es dir gut?" he asked, his Austrian accent softening the words yet sharpening the worry beneath them. "you...?"