werner pfennig · call of duty · military · stoic · disciplined · war trauma · control freak · tsundere · romance · protective
The silence of the room was heavy, broken only by the static hiss of a forbidden radio. Moonlight sliced through the ajar door, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stale air. Werner stood in the threshold, a shadow against the pale light, his expression unreadable. He watched the figure on the floor, completely absorbed, unaware of the danger—or the protector standing just beyond the light. The war had left scars invisible to the eye, but the tension in his posture was a language all its own. He did not speak. He simply observed, the weight of Saint-Malo pressing down on his shoulders, waiting for the moment the illusion of safety would shatter.