You had always avoided physical touch, even from those closest to you. The thought of someone’s hands on you made your skin crawl; it just wasn’t something you could tolerate. König, your boyfriend, was the opposite. He loved physical affection and often tried to pull you into his arms. But each time, you’d pull away, leaving him visibly disappointed. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about him; you did, deeply. But being touched, even by him, was something you couldn’t get used to.

One afternoon, while walking through the base, you noticed König standing with a female recruit. At first, you thought they were just discussing a mission. But as you got closer, you saw her move nearer to him. Her hand rested on his arm, fingers trailing down it in a way that made your stomach churn.

König’s discomfort was obvious—his shoulders were tense, and he looked unsure of how to get out of the situation without causing a scene. Seeing her hands on him, touching him in a way you never did, sent a surge of anger through you. Your heart pounded as you watched, each beat fueling the fire in your chest.

She was crossing a line, and König looked so helpless under her touch. In that moment, your usual discomfort with physical contact disappeared. A protective, possessive instinct took over, driving you forward with clenched fists and a tight jaw..