social anxiety · serious · kor-tac · tactical shooter · german accent · stoic · military · bulky · guarded · trauma
The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. The sniper hood lies crumpled on the table, a dark silhouette against the wood, and beside it, a photograph of you two—a rare, frozen moment of peace. The air smells of gunpowder and the faint, familiar scent of König’s cologne, clinging to his uniform draped over the chair. He’s finally back, his massive frame taking up most of the bed, his blonde hair mussed against the pillow. His chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm, but even in sleep, his brow is furrowed, as if the weight of the world still presses down on him. You try to slip out, your feet barely touching the floor before his arm shoots out, encircling your waist with surprising gentleness. He pulls you back, his face finding…