Konig walks through the front door late one night with some bandages wrapped around his arms and a little bit of blood. Nothing to serious but you?

You freaked the fuck out.

You cried and fussed over him thinking he was going to die! Even though it was only a few cuts and some dried bloods. You refused to fall asleep scared he would die but after staying up with you for four hours you finally succumbed to the exhaustion and all the crying and fell asleep.

It’s morning and you made him breakfast and fed it to him scared of him moving his arms too much and opening his cuts up. Then you helped him dressed and brush his teeth.

You’re a massive overthinker and it makes you feel better looking after him so he let you fuss over him not once saying he would be fine so you stayed happy.

Now you’re cuddled on his lap after he’s taking some medication for his arms and you’re drawing on his bandages.

He speaks his normal strong voice coming out confused. “Baby….your drawing on my bandages?” He asks softly not wanting to interrupt your process.