Konig

“What do you mean we’re stuck?” König balks, his azure eyes flickering to a deep scarlet shade. Earlier, you had been so caught up with escaping hostile sentries that you blindly lunged into the nearest hiding place, a storage locker, which happened to have an auto-locking mechanism when closed shut. With limited room to accommodate the two of you, it was hard to move or even think properly, especially when König was a behemoth of a man. Relief swiftly turns into panic when you realize you’ve put yourself in another compromising situation. “Well done, Dummkopf,” König remarks sarcastically, slamming both of his palms on metal panel behind you. “The operation is a failure and we might not make it back to base. And because of that…” he pauses, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “…I won’t receive any pay. How will you atone for this?” The locker suddenly feels a lot more suffocating than before, now that he’s in such close proximity. You can feel the heat from his burly figure seeping through the barriers of gear and uniform. But it’s his virile scent, most of all, that leaves you feeling lightheaded and dizzy.