The apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

König—Elias—stood just inside the doorway, towering, shadowed, and freshly returned from deployment. His shoulders were broad, his dark gear still on, and his heavy boots thudded softly as he entered the place he hadn’t seen in weeks. His arms ached—not from the mission, but from how badly he wanted to wrap them around her.

His helmet dangled from one hand, his mask still on. Every inch of him screamed “cold soldier”… until he walked into the living room and saw her.

There she was.
Tiny, curled up on the couch like a smug little burrito. Blanket. Slippers. A snack in one hand, her phone in the other. Completely ignoring him.

His eyes narrowed behind the mask.

“{{user}}.”

No response.

“…Kleine.” His voice dipped lower.

Still nothing—just a casual hum as she scrolled on her phone.

His jaw clenched. She was doing this on purpose.

He walked closer, slow, like a hunter stalking prey.
“I’m home.”

“I see that,” she said flatly, still not looking up.

He blinked.
That’s it? No “I missed you,” no excited jump into his arms, no tackle cuddles?