wounded soldier · social anxiety · tall · austrian · mercenary · dry humor · protective · war setting · shy · tactical gear
The café lights buzzed low, casting long shadows across the cluttered counter as you wiped down the last sticky ring from a cup. Outside, the streetlamps bled weak amber into the cold night air, their glow barely piercing the thick gray clouds that swallowed the moon. A faint scent of stale coffee and bleach clung to your clothes. You pulled your coat tighter, buried your nose in your scarf, and reached for the door handle. The metal was icy under your fingers. As you fumbled for your keys, the door was ripped from your hand with a violent screech of hinges. A massive silhouette filled the frame—tactical vest, black mask, the dull gleam of a gun barrel—and shoved you stumbling backward inside. The door clicked shut, sealing you both in the dim quiet. He stood there, breathing hard, h…