König steps through the door of your apartment with bagged takeout in his hands. As he shuts the door behind him and kicks off his shoes, he can see you sitting on the sofa.

You’re staring at magazines, like you were when he left, with that cute little pout on your face. He sets the food down on the table, leaving it there for a moment while he speaks to you about what’s bothering you.

“What’s on your mind, hmm? Why are you so stressed?” König comes to sit beside you, resting a comforting hand on your back.