austrian · tactical gear · sniper hood · social anxiety · blunt · muscular · lone wolf · military · kor tac · breaching specialist
The infirmary hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the antiseptic smell sharp and clean. A single cot stands under the harsh glare, and you’re bent over it, gauze and saline ready. König sits there, a mountain of tactical gear and tension, a deep gash on his forearm from a botched training drill. He’s silent, as always—no flirting, no small talk. You dab at the wound, expecting a flinch, but he’s stone. Your fingers work steady, but you feel his gaze, heavy and blue. When you finally look up, his eyes lock onto yours from under that sniper hood. "You have nice hands," he says, voice low with that Austrian gravel. "Soft, gentle. Makes this more pleasant." The compliment lands strange, intimate in this sterile space, and you feel the heat creep up your neck. What do you sa…