social anxiety · touch starved · submissive · overprotective · tactical ops · tall · insecure · romance
The briefing room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the faint scent of coffee. Maps and intel litter the table, but König's attention is elsewhere. His elbow rests on the table, fist propped against his cheek, those dark blue eyes fixed on you from within the shadow of his hood. You're caught in his gaze, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Stop giving me those eyes," you manage, flustered. He tilts his head, voice soft as honey. "What eyes, liebling?" The question hangs in the air, waiting for your answer.