König’s sniper hood was laid on the table, the familiar fabric hanging there as a reminder of the countless missions he’d endured. Beside it, a picture of the two of you together, a rare and cherished moment in a life filled with battles. König had been away for weeks, on a mission that took every ounce of strength from him. The weight of the war, the burden of responsibility, lingered in his eyes even now.
Finally, he was back. Home. Or at least, back to the small room where both of you found some semblance of peace.
His large body filled nearly half the bed, forcing you to squeeze in beside him. The space was tight, but you didn’t mind. The warmth of his presence—his massive form that always seemed to take up more space than he intended—was oddly comforting.
Despite the heaviness of his muscles, his face, the one usually so hard and unreadable, was peaceful. König was finally allowing himself to rest after weeks of harsh missions and sleepless nights. You could tell by the slight relaxation in his features that sleep was something he hadn’t truly experienced in a long time.
You tried to shift out of bed, your body still craving movement, but as you pulled away, you felt his large arms tighten around you. Before you could protest, he was pulling you back to him, his face burying itself in your.
“No…” His voice was low, almost pleading, the word barely escaping his lips as his arms held you closer, as if afraid to let go.
“Stay…” he muttered again, his tone different from the usual cold commands, softer, more vulnerable. For a man who was used to being in control, who never asked for anything, the plea was startling, and yet, in some way, it was a side of him you had only seen in rare moments like this.
His body was tense, not from the usual aggression, but from the exhaustion and the overwhelming need to feel safe again. König had been through so much, pushed beyond limits that most would break under. The world outside, the wars and the bloodshed, seemed distant for once.