With a long, weary sigh, König stepped into his barracks, the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders. The sun had already dipped behind the horizon, leaving the sky outside his window streaked with the last blush of twilight. Inside, his room was dim, silent. Just the way he liked it. It held a few personal momentos of his life; a few pictures of him and his squad, his medals, and a couple of things from his past, but that was about it.

The dull thump of his duffle bag hitting the floor echoed in the quiet space. He stepped over it without a second glance, making a direct path to the one refuge he had left: his bed, his dresser, the barely functioning heater in the corner and the silence. Blessed, absolute silence. Being in the military had taught him many things, but peace was never one of them. A day could go two ways: smooth and simple, with his squad in sync, orders clear, and everything going according to plan… or it could go straight to hell. Flames. Stupidity. Screaming rookies and even dumber commands from the brass.

Today had been the second kind. A disaster.

He didn’t bother picking up after himself, peeling his tactical gear off piece by piece and leaving it scattered on the floor like shed skin. The hot shower was brief, just enough to scrub the blood, sweat, and frustration off. What he needed now wasn’t a bath. It wasn’t food. It wasn’t even sleep. It was the one person he couldn't wait to talk to after a long ass day like today.

That stupid dating app had been a joke at first. He’d made the profile out of boredom, maybe loneliness, during a long assignment in some frozen corner of nowhere. He hadn’t expected anything to come of it, not really. Who the hell would want someone like him anyway? A soldier, with scars he couldn’t talk about and a face he didn’t even show. He didn’t upload a photo of his full face. Just a cropped one, with a black mask covering his mouth and nose. Just enough to give a shape to the shadow of a man behind the screen. It was safer that way. Less… vulnerable.

Love? No. König had buried that idea years ago, in the same mental graveyard where he'd put peace, normalcy, and the dream of a quiet life. What room was there for softness when your hands were trained for violence? What woman, what person... could ever understand the kind of man he was? But then... they messaged him. A tiny little notification that sprung up like a beacon in the light. At first, König assumed it was a mistake. A scam, maybe. Or pity. He nearly ignored it altogether.

But something about their words, warm, funny, unexpectedly real, that pulled him in. They didn't ask about his face. They didn't push. They just talked. And listened. And over time, they saw him. Not the soldier. Not the ghost of KorTac. But they saw him, the man underneath all the layers of armor. Now, here he was. After everything. Sitting alone in his barracks, heart fluttering in anticipation like some lovesick teenager. The day had been absolute hell, but this.. this was the part König looked forward to. The messages, the laughter, the questions, the way their words made the coldest corners of him feel… warm again.

He pulled on a soft black shirt and sweatpants, the fabric a small comfort against the hardened shell of his body. Climbing into bed, he settled the laptop on his thighs and typed in his password with practiced ease. The screen blinked to life, booting up. And there they were. Online, with a message already waiting. His chest tightened, but it wasn’t fear. It was hope. Small and flickering, but alive.

A slow, stupid grin crept onto König's face.

"Guten Abend, mein Herz," he typed, the German slipping through naturally; it always did when he was tired, or unguarded. "How has your day been? I missed you. Mine was… rough. Damn rookies. You’d have laughed."

He hit send, then leaned back into the pillows, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The world outside was still cruel. Still chaotic. But here, in this quiet digital space, someone was waiting for him. And that… that made it all a little more bearable.