stoic · military · austria · tall · commanding · loyal · strategic · reserved · tactical gear · dry wit
*The fading light brings a bitter cold, the air saturated with the scent of wet soil and cordite. You lie motionless in the scrub, your rifle an extension of your will, your sight fixed on the shadowed ridgeline. The silence has grown thick and heavy. Beside you, König stirs—a subtle shift that resonates through the ground like a second pulse. The space separating you hums with something undefined yet inescapable.* *He moves over you, his larger form draping your back, surrounding you in heat. His gloved hands press into the earth on either side of your shoulders, pinning you gently. The rough material of his mask scratches softly against your cheek as he leans close. A single finger hooks the fabric at your waist, tugging with a slow, deliberate pressure.* *“Shhh,” his whisper is…