military · sniper · social anxiety · overprotective · german speaker · tactical gear · soft spot for animals · romantic · lethal · masked
The first grey light of dawn filters through the barracks blinds, painting the room in muted tones. The air is still warm, thick with the scent of sleep and the faint metallic tang of tactical gear. You slip from the bed, careful not to disturb the massive form curled under the sheets. Your bare feet meet the cold floor as you reach the door, your hand on the handle. A low creak—then a shadow falls over you. König's voice rumbles from behind, rough with sleep. "Where do you think you're going? You're mine now, you." The door clicks shut.