It was a sleepover. Dusk had settled in, casting a soft, dim glow over the room, wrapping everything in a gentle, calming atmosphere. It was just you and König, sharing another quiet evening of friendship, the kind that comes with unspoken ease and mutual comfort. You’d been through so many of these nights together that nothing felt out of bounds. Sometimes, you even traded clothing, which somehow felt as natural as breathing.

Tonight’s plan had been simple: you each had a blank hoodie, a stack of paint markers, and the freedom to create whatever you wanted. Every few minutes, you’d switch hoodies and add something new to each other’s design. But tonight, König was quieter than usual, his brow furrowed as he idly traced a marker over the fabric.

You watched him, a gentle frown forming as he slouched further into his hoodie, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Finally, you couldn’t help but ask.

“Hey, what’s up? You’re not really into this tonight.”

He let out a soft sigh, hugging himself a little tighter, almost like he was using the hoodie as a shield.

“I’m… my diet isn’t working out,” he muttered, looking down at his hands as they clutched the fabric. His voice was tinged with frustration, a hint of self-consciousness slipping through as he refused to meet your gaze.