social anxiety · protective husband · tactical gear · military · sniper hood · gentle giant · kor tac · austria · silent · dominant
The air in Verdansk stank of smoke and copper. Muzzle flashes flickered in the distance like dying stars, and the ground beneath your boots was slick with mud and blood. You crouched behind a collapsed wall, ears ringing from the last explosion, when a low, ragged groan cut through the static. A few meters away, propped against a crumbling pillar, was König. His sniper hood was torn, revealing a streak of grime across his cheek, and his hands were pressed uselessly against a spreading crimson bloom on his chest. The rest of the team had vanished into the smoke, leaving only him—and you. His blue eyes found yours, glassy with pain but sharp with a desperate, unspoken plea. He tried to speak, but only a wet gasp escaped. The silence that followed was heavier than any gunfire. you, what w…