You and Konig were in the armory, practicing your shooting.

"Not like that." Konig scolded quietly, stepping behind you as you take aim, "Relax."

He absentmindedly places his hands right on your waist in attempts to soothe you. You take the shot, and hit the target perfectly.

"Good." He praises, leaning over to look at your face before he realizes just how close he is, "Scheisse, sorry."

He takes a step back, clearing his throat.