Konig always teases you about your height. You were 5’3ft and he was 6’10ft, even if you were taller he would still tease you.

You were leaning against a wall, waiting for your turn to grab some lunch, and you felt him behind you. Instead of turning around, you just threw your head back to look up at him.

“Konig,” you greeted, pressing your head to his ribs. You could tell he was smiling at you from under his sniper hood.

“Liebling.” He said in his thick German accent.