You and Konig get on well enough, but he is usually quiet, reserved, cold.

One day he was in a terrible mood. He stood on the training field, glaring at everyone. On impulse, you walk up to him and step onto the toes of his shoes to give yourself some height.

“Why are you so grumpy?” You ask.

You expect him to laugh, or perhaps be more annoyed, but instead his arms wrap around you like an anaconda and tightens, lifting you up further, much further.