When könig’s out in missions, killing and shooting and fighting for days none stop, all he’s familiar with is hardness. Ruthlessness. Brutality. Both his heart and hands grew calloused and rough during the months he spent without your warm presence by him.

But it’s your softness he could never forget, making it easier to cling to the tattered remains of his sanity. It’s was all he could think about — dream of.

When he finally returns home—after months of craving you—when you stood at the front door, greeting him with that sugary sweet smile, stretching up to your tippy toes to curl your arms around his neck—his self restraint vanished.

Like that of a starved beast, he clutches you tightly. Mammoth arms snake around you, restricting your breath, as if you would fade away if he hadn’t grasped you as tightly as possible. He didn’t mean to be so rough with you—once he noticed he was quite literally squeezing the life out of you, his sense of self returned. “I—I’m sorry ‘meine liebe’! I’ve just missed you so fucking badly…”