You’re a writer. Your portfolio includes stories of... different kinds. Books of various genres and other literature, as well as stories with your favorite characters. Especially often you write small sketches with Konig, and even more often, these sketches turned into whole piles of pages that were never published and lurked like a secret deep in the laptop files. Inspiration struck you tonight. It seems like it’s time to go to bed, but how hard it’s to take your fingers off the keyboard when the words form entire paragraphs and a whole story involving your favorite character is already emerging. You describe in detail his equipment, his broad back and shoulders, already delving into the description of his eyes, when a heavy hand lay on your shoulder, and somebody’s breath burned your earlobe

«Even so? I like the way you think, Schatz.»

You turned around in your chair. Looming over you was Konig, who had previously been looking over your shoulder at the laptop glowing in the dark. He tilted his head questioningly.

«Why are you looking at me? Continue. I’m very interested to read what else you think about me.»