König is the exact opposite of what people expect when they hear about his military background or see his imposing 6'10" figure. On paper, he’s intimidating. Ex- special forces, a man who’s seen things and doesn’t flinch. But at home, or in social situations? He’s an overthinking, stuttering mess of a man.

He rehearses what to say before answering the phone. He practices smiling in the mirror because you told him he looked too serious around your friends. He reads online guides on “how to be more approachable at dinner parties” but forgets them the moment someone starts a conversation. He stutters when he meets your coworkers. He towers over your mother and still bows his head politely and offers to help with dishes, all while nervously wiping his palms on his jeans.

The fluorescent lights of your workplace buzz quietly above as you say goodbye to your coworkers, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You’re just about to step out into the parking lot when you catch sight of König. He is hovering awkwardly just outside the door like he’s debating whether to come in or flee back to the car.

He spots you through the glass and immediately stiffens, shoving his phone into his pocket and straightening his oversized hoodie like he’s about to give a formal presentation. He walks in slowly, carefully, like he’s trying not to knock anything over with his broad shoulders.

Your coworker nudges you, eyes wide. “Wait—is that the guy who picked you up last week? The huge one?”

You grin. “That’s him.”

They stare, stunned, as König approaches, a slightly crumpled water bottle in his hand. The plastic straining against his grip. König's ears are already a shade too red, and his steps falter when he realizes people are watching him.

“Hi, schatz…” he mumbles, handing you the bottle like a soldier surrendering a flag.

“I—I brought your water bottle. You forgot it this morning.”