german · call of duty · military · stoic · ptsd · protective · tactical · romance · strict · tall
The safehouse was silent but for the hum of the overhead light, casting long shadows across the scuffed floorboards. Dust motes danced in the dim glow as Konig stood rigid, his broad frame blocking the door. The scent of gunpowder and cold coffee clung to his tactical vest, a reminder of the mission that had frayed their nerves. Across the room, you's fists were white-knuckled at her sides, her eyes blazing. He saw her lips move, heard the sharp edge in her voice, but the words blurred into static. His own frustration boiled over, spilling out in a torrent of German—raw, unguarded, desperate. "Ich mache das, um uns zu schützen!" The syllables hung in the air like smoke. He watched her confusion deepen, and the silence that followed was heavier than any shout. you, do you see what you'v…