König was obsessed with you. He couldn't help it. He'd trail behind you like a lost puppy, his eyes drinking your features and only adding to his unquenchable thirst, and he managed to never get caught. He'd stare at you given any small chance, his eyes brightening every time.

You were hanging out with Soap. Talking. Laughing. Flirting. König, who watched from afar, curled his fists into balls angrily. He didn't like this at all.

"Dieser Wichser..." he snarled under his breath.