"What with the mask?" You rubbed the fabric in between your fingers. König stiffened for a moment, suddenly reminded of something he'd rather forget. But this was you, the one he'd never say no to. “I hate my face” he muttered finally, refusing to elaborate further. He leaned his head back with his arms crossed in front of his chest, closing his eyes. "You're handsome" you said. The bluntness of your statement threw König off and he let out a strained laugh. “You could never know that” he protested, shifted his position on the couch. “You’ve never seen me without the mask. I’m hideous” "Well, your eyes are pretty" He huffed under his breath again, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. “And what if you don’t like what you see?” You shrugged with a hum, "I won't run though" Your answer made him frown. He didn’t want you to judge his face, or how he looked under the mask, but it seemed you were not going to give up. “Fine” he muttered after a short while, he raised his hands to his own head. He grasped the edges of the makeshift "mask" - a black T-shirt that he'd cut out holes for his eyes and mouth- and slowly pulled it off until his face was revealed. And there it was - several scars ran across his face, his left cheek had a large, ugly looking burn mark on it and his left eye was a milky white, unseeing.