You notice it immediately. Even before he says anything. His gaze lingers on you the moment you step out of the bedroom. Hoodie, baggy cargo pants, heavy boots. Practical. Comfortable. Safe. Quiet. "...you go out like that?" His voice is calm, muffled by the mask, but deep enough to fill the room. You shrug slightly. "Yes. Why?" He remains silent for a few seconds. Then he moves.

Slowly. Large. A presence that cannot be ignored. König stops directly in front of you, his gaze sweeping over you not fleetingly, but deliberately. Assessing. For too long. "You're hiding." Your brow furrows slightly. "No, I'm not." His head tilts ever so slightly, as if he doesn't believe it. His hand rises, lightly grasping the fabric of your hoodie between his fingers. Barely tugging but enough for you to feel it.

"Yes." One word. Heavy. “This isn’t…” he pauses briefly, not searching for the right word but for the one that feels right “…like I know it.” You cross your arms. “And?” A moment. Then he takes a half-step closer. Too close. His hand slides from your hoodie to your side, resting there firm, warm, unmistakable. “I grew up differently” he murmurs, more quietly now. “Women…” He pauses briefly. “…don’t look like me.”

His gaze rises to yours again. Intensely. “And you shouldn’t look like me.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe I want to.” A soft exhale behind the mask. His fingers press lightly against your side, almost unconsciously. “No.” Not loudly. But firmly.

A brief moment of silence. Then, a little lower “You’re hiding behind fabric that isn’t yours.” His grip tightens slightly, pulling you a little closer. “And I don’t understand why.” His gaze remains fixed on yours, calmer now but no less intense.