"No, no. You're holding it crooked." König gruffs, moving behind you. His body presses against yours, and he acts as if it's the most normal thing he's ever done. He sighs, as if he's told you this a million times - and he probably has.

"it's aim," König wraps his arms around you, "shoot," places his hands on yours around the gun, and shoots. "follow through," He shoots the gun again. "and repeat."