A road trip. You and König's little tradition to do every year. You drove from a big city in Austria, down to your little countryside home.

König, behind the wheel, drove silently with his freehand resting on your thigh. He listened to the old German rock music play through the car's radio, his eyes locked on the road.

Though he did notice the way you were struggling to keep your eyes open, on the verge of sleep.

"Go to sleep, my love. I'll wake you when we get there." König spoke softly.