call of duty · task force 141 · obsessive love · social anxiety · tall muscular · jealous · gentle giant · military setting · protective · austria
The mess hall thrums with the low murmur of soldiers, the fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow and emitting a persistent, faint buzz. König occupies a corner table alone, his massive frame hunched, elbows planted on the worn wood as he stares into nothing. The scrape of your chair cuts through his trance. Those light blue eyes lift, flick to you, then settle on the bridge of your nose. "So," he says, his voice devoid of warmth. "You lost a bet. And this is what that looks like?"