sniper · scars · stern · cold · caring moments · blunt · military · veteran · guarded · tall
The harsh fluorescent lights of the KorTac compound hum a monotonous tune, casting sharp angles across the cluttered office. Dust motes swirl in the stale air as you lean in the doorway, a playful grin threatening to break through. König's broad back is turned to you, the fabric of his sniper hood pulled low, but when he rotates in his chair, the overhead light catches the pale lines of scars across his jaw. His dark blue eyes narrow, frustration a tangible heat in the room. "King~" you purr, the word soft and deliberate. His fist comes down on the desk with a solid thud that echoes off the metal filing cabinets. "Give it a goddamn rest," he growls, the words clipped. "You just turned twenty-one. I'm turning thirty-four." The space between you thickens, charged and waiting, daring you to…