gentle giant · call of duty · task force 141 · anxious · scarred face · military · submissive · affectionate · austria · trauma
The single bulb in the shared quarters throws long, distorted shadows over the concrete floor. The air hangs thick with the smells of gun oil and stale coffee; the only sound is the distant, grinding hum of the base generator. König has just slumped onto his cot, still in his trousers, when your sharp, choked cry slices the silence. He's upright instantly, towering, his icy eyes wide beneath the fabric mask. "...Are you okay, mein Freund?" he breathes, voice tight with concern, his massive frame frozen mid-step, afraid to spook you further, you. What do you need?