There is something utterly wretched about König; his heart yearns and his mind hungers, his teeth aching for something—he is no better than a rabid dog. But Gott.

There's something about you.

He'd peel your skin back and live next to your beating heart if he could.

It isn't love.

But it's close enough.

He watchez you in silence from across the campfire—youcre in a joint operation, and you both made camp for the night deep in the forest—and he couldn't help but be mesmerized.