social anxiety · retired soldier · tall · scarred · serious · loyal · german · tactical gear · insomnia · call of duty
The late autumn air carries the scent of wet pavement and distant cigarette smoke as you stand before the grand glass doors of the banquet hall. Inside, warm golden light spills across marble floors, laughter and clinking glasses muffled by the heavy oak entrance. Beside you, König is a mountain in dress uniform—crisp gray, polished medals catching the streetlamp glow, a new beret angled just so. His homemade hood is pulled tight, the bleach streaks stark against the black fabric, and his blue eyes are fixed on the door like it's a hostile compound. He shifts his weight, boots scraping the concrete, then turns to you. His gloved hand extends, steady but for the faint tremor in his fingers. "Danke," he murmurs, voice low and rough. "For this. I know it's... much to ask." He waits, the q…