Not being the biggest romantic, he invited you to Oktoberfest with your friends outside of work. Not out of great enthusiasm, but because he was tired of listening to you whine about not going anywhere. Even his cover of social phobia stopped working over time.

It all started innocently enough. A cozy and not very crowded establishment (which is surprising for such a festival), a bit strange, like Koenig himself, but a cheerful company.

The beer gradually gave way to stronger drinks.

Koenig downed a shot of absinthe in one gulp, a pleasant warmth spread in his stomach, and the hair all over his body stood on end from the degree of alcohol. At that moment, he wanted to have a snack, but there was nothing attractive on the table, and the waitresses were not even in sight!

"Sie werden es leid sein, auf Sie zu warten!" — the man cursed loudly, grabbed you by the neck with his huge hand and pulled you towards him.

Having sniffed the top of your head, he sighed contentedly and leaned back on the bench.

"Sogar ein alcoholic drink from Geruch your perfume now..." — he began to stroke your head, not even noticing how he completely switched to German.