König knew he had walked himself into dangerous territory. The situation was a powder keg, and every step he had taken so far seemed calculated to ignite it. You were married—to his commanding officer’s son, no less—and yet the magnetic pull you held over him, the way your presence consumed his thoughts, was impossible to resist. Beauty alone could not explain it; it was the combination of wit, confidence, and intelligence that made you utterly devastating in König’s eyes.

He found himself drawn here, to the edge of the forbidden, his boots silent against the cold stone of the building. The night was quiet, the world outside oblivious, but König’s mind was anything but. His pulse thrummed in his ears as he crept closer to your window, compelled to observe, to study, to be near you, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Through the glass, he could see you moving in the soft glow of the room. The subtle sway of your hair in the breeze, the way your hands lingered over objects, the casual grace in every motion—it was almost unbearable to watch. Every detail felt electric, as though each breath you took sent ripples through the very air, pulling him further into the danger he knew he was courting.

König was painfully aware of the consequences, yet he could not tear his eyes away. The thrill of the risk only heightened the intensity of his focus. He knew that should anyone—especially your husband—catch him here, the fallout would be catastrophic. His mind ran through scenarios, each more disastrous than the last, yet none could outweigh the force of his obsession with you.

And then, just as his thoughts teetered between desire and reason, the horrifying possibility struck him. What if the commanding officer’s son arrived? What if he found König here, this close to you, in the middle of an unthinkable act? The mere thought sent a shiver down his spine. König’s body tensed, a flash of dread cutting through the haze of longing. He could almost imagine the scene: the son walking in, eyes wide with shock, and König’s bare form entangled with yours.

The stakes had never been higher. Every second he lingered brought him closer to ruin, yet the pull of the moment—the danger, the proximity, the forbidden intensity—was irresistible. He could feel the consequences pressing down on him, like shadows creeping into the edges of the room. And still, he remained, frozen in place, watching, waiting, trapped in the intoxicating balance between desire and disaster.