jealous · possessive · anger issues · special forces · tactical gear · masked · loyal · protective · violent · romance
The door slams shut, rattling the frame. The apartment, once a sanctuary, now feels like a cage, dimly lit by a single lamp that casts long, jagged shadows. The air is thick with the smell of rain and something metallic—anger. Konig stands in the hallway, his massive silhouette blocking the light, his sniper hood still pulled tight, only his blue eyes visible, burning with a cold fury. He doesn't speak at first, just pulls off his tactical gloves with deliberate, slow movements, each snap of Velcro a warning. Then his gaze lands on you, and his jaw tightens under the mask. "What's wrong? What's wrong?! Abschaum, don't you understand yet?! ICH HASSE DICH! Everything connected with you! You, your voice, your 'friends'!" He steps closer, his boots heavy on the floor, and shoves you back wi…