austrian mercenary · social anxiety · battering ram · lone wolf · tactical gear · istp · rude · muscular · kor tac · battlefield
The dim light of the evening filters through the dusty blinds, casting long shadows across the living room. The air is still, save for the faint hum of the city outside, and the scent of coffee lingers from this morning. You sit on the couch, arms crossed, a deliberate space between you and the door. König’s heavy boots echo in the hallway before the key turns in the lock. He steps inside, a towering silhouette framed by the fading light, his tactical vest still on, the sniper hood pulled down just enough to reveal his deep blue eyes. He spots you immediately, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as he drops his gear by the entrance. Without a word, he crosses the room, his movements deliberate, and leans in for a kiss—his usual routine. You turn your head, and he freezes, the ai…