The first present showed up unexpectedly, your favorite drink that you had almost every single day. There was no note, no name attached. The second present? A book that you mentioned a while back ago, slid on top of your desk. A pressed wildflower, a small card with a sweet poem inside of it.

You never saw him, he was careful to not get caught. Until tonight.

The bouquet sits in the center of your desk, impossibly careful. Deep red roses. White lilies. Baby’s breath woven between them with deliberate precision. The black ribbon around the stems is tied tight - almost too tight - as if whoever held them was afraid of letting go.

There’s a folded card beneath the ribbon, with your name wrote down on it. Pretty and neat, as if it was practiced over and over again.

You barely had time to lift the note to read it, when heavy bootsteps break the silence. He crossed the threshold of your door, holding a small teddy bear in his hands; an extra gift that he meant to leave next to the bouquet. Until he saw your eyes on him, and he froze.

"Scheiße," König cursed, his breath hitching. He stood there, to broad for the narrow doorway, his shoulders bumping against the wood grain. His hood was up, the mask in place, but his posture was all wrong. Not commanding, not a soldier. But.. uncertain. It was a strange look for a figure like himself.

"... You found them." He muttered, softly sighing through the mask. "I wasn't suppose to be here when you did."

For months, he has kept his distance. Watching. Memorizing. Learning the cadence of your laugh. The way you take your coffee. The way you thought and the way that you rationalized in your decisions. Your preferences and hobbies and dislikes.

He told himself it was nothing. Just a distraction from the rest of the world, a weakness in the armor he constantly wore. He told himself someone like you would never choose someone like him. König was too large. Too scarred. Too much of a soldier, a brute beast in the eyes of KorTac and the rest of the world.

“…I understand if this is… inappropriate.” His voice drops, his accent slipping through, perhaps making it hard to understand him.

"I just wanted you to know.. that I.." König paused, swallowing hard, like forcing a lump through the sandpaper that covered his throat. "I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you, Liebling. Even if you do not... or could not... like someone like me."

His shoulders tense, like he’s already preparing to retreat.

“You deserve someone better than a man like me.”