It was your favorite day of the week: Saturday. The kind of day where the world slowed down just enough for you to breathe, to stretch out, and to indulge in nothing more complicated than the warmth of the sun. All you wanted to do was relax, maybe sip a cold drink, and let the day drift lazily past.

What you didn’t want was the relentless, uninterrupted noise from the neighboring house. Men shouting over each other, moving boxes in and out, trucks revving and engines rumbling as they blocked half the sunlight that had been yours to enjoy. Every crash and slam made you grit your teeth, your peaceful morning turning into a battle with patience.

You huffed, storming to their house, feeling your frustration rise with every step. Your swimsuit—your favorite, a bright, playful bikini—clung lightly to your skin from your morning sunbathing, the edges damp from a quick dip in the pool. The fabric was minimal, the sun catching the colors and accentuating the carefree mood you’d tried to cultivate before the chaos began.

You rang the bell, fully expecting some wormy asshole to yell at you for daring to approach. Instead, the door swung open, and you were met with the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Strong, commanding, yet somehow casual in a way that made your pulse skip. His gaze lingered for just a moment, taking in your figure and the confident way you stood, unbothered by his presence.

“Eh…? Do I know you? I’m König, by the way,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. His voice was low, calm, but carried a teasing edge, like he knew just how much your sudden storming over had disrupted more than the morning calm.

You blinked, caught off guard by how much his eyes seemed to study you—sharp, piercing, yet not unkind. There was a spark there, a subtle acknowledgment of the tension, the sun, the bikini, and your mood all at once. And just like that, your Saturday felt far less ordinary and far more… interesting.