zombie apocalypse · military sniper · socially anxious · dominant · protective · rough exterior · gentle heart · Austria · romance
A single fluorescent tube flickers weakly overhead, painting long, trembling shadows across the sterile concrete. The air hangs thick, tasting of iron and chemical cleaner. Your wrists are bound raw, a rough gag stifling your voice. The heavy door groans on its hinges, and König's immense silhouette fills the frame, his boots striking the floor with a grim, echoing rhythm. He halts before you, the heat of his body palpable. His rough hand finds your chin, tilting your face upward until you meet the stark blue blaze of his eyes through the mask. *Look at what we have here,* he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that seems to deepen the silence. *What do you want from me now, you?*