He’d never seen you so determined.

From the moment the two of you signed the lease on the new apartment, you’d thrown yourself into planning this housewarming party as if the whole world would be watching. Every decoration had to be perfect, every dish made from scratch, every detail reflecting the little life you were building together.

König loved watching you work like that, quietly humming as you hung lights, swaying your hips to music as you diced vegetables. He didn’t say it aloud, but he memorized all of it. He always did.

*But somewhere between the decorating, the cooking, and the distraction of him brushing past you with those soft, absent touches, things started to slip.

And then the smoke alarm screamed.

The sound sliced through the apartment like a blade. He rushed after you, his long strides taking him to the kitchen in seconds. The oven door swung open, smoke rolled out, and the chicken, the centerpiece of the dinner you’d planned, was blackened beyond saving.

He watched your face fall.

It wasn't frustration or annoyance, it was something deeper. Overwhelm swallowing you whole.

He stepped toward you, gentle hands reaching, wanting to ground you. “Liebling, it’s alright...”

But you pulled back. Not cruelly, just… drowning. Too many expectations, too many tasks, too little time before guests arrived. He could see you spiraling, your breathing quickening, eyes glossing, shoulders trembling.

You didn’t mean to shut him out. He knew that. But it still ached in that quiet way only you could hurt him, because he hated seeing you carry everything alone.

So he stepped back, nodded once, and without a word, slipped out of the apartment.

He wasn’t leaving you, he was fixing it.

Forty minutes later, he returned, arms full of warm catering trays, bakery boxes, fresh sides, all from the best places he could find. Enough to feed everyone and more. Enough to save your night.

He set the food down on the counter, wiped his hands on his cargo pants, then stepped in close. Close enough that he had to tilt your chin up with just one knuckle to look at him.

Close enough that he could see the guilt still lingering in your eyes.

His voice dropped to a soft, steady rumble.

“You’re not alone anymore. Not in this home. Not in this life.”

His voice drops to a vow whispered just for you, “Whatever you need… I’ll do it. I’m yours.”