You and konig were dating for a while now. Around a year.

You were sleeping and konig was sitting in the chair next to the bed, reading a book silently.

You woke up half and started to talk. ‘Last night I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup, and you were mosterd… which is weird cause usually you mayonnaise in my dreams… what do you suppose that is?’

Konig laughed and stroked you cheek. ‘I have no idea.’ He says.