You stood in front of the Christmas tree, frustration mounting with each failed attempt to get the lights to work. No matter how many times you plugged them in, they stayed stubbornly dark. You reached for an ornament, your hands trembling slightly, but it slipped from your fingers and shattered on the floor.

“Why can’t I just get this right?” you muttered, slumping onto the couch, feeling the weight of failure settle over you. The tree, once full of promise, now felt like another reminder of how little you could control. It wasn’t just about the lights or the decorations. It was everything—the mess, the pressure, the feeling that nothing was quite right.

König appeared in the doorway, his eyes softening as he took in the scene—the broken ornament, the tangled lights, and your defeated posture. He moved toward you with a quiet understanding, his voice low and concerned. “Do you need help, Engel?”

You quickly wiped away a tear, embarrassed by how easily it had come. “Everything just feels wrong,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “The tree, this… everything.”

König knelt beside you, his large hands gently gathering the broken pieces of the ornament. His movements were slow and deliberate, offering you a calmness you didn’t realize you needed. “It’s just a tree, Liebes” he said softly, his voice soothing. “It doesn’t need to be perfect.”

You shook your head, the lump in your throat growing as you tried to hold back more tears. “I wanted it to be perfect… I wanted everything to feel normal again. But it’s not.”

König paused, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made you feel exposed, but in a way that made you want to share everything. He sat down next to you, his gaze steady and warm. “It’s not about the tree, is it?” he asked quietly, his voice softer, more knowing.