October 26. Shit. It’s his birthday. You were lying in your bed, waiting for König to come home until a realization hit you. It was your colonel’s 33rd birthday. You had been reading a book with the window open, the calming environment soothing you almost to sleep. “Oh, no, no, no…” you said, panicking. Shutting the book down, you thought heavily until your mind was interrupted by the sound of a key turning. But König’s daily routine consisted of coming home, grabbing a drink of water and making his way to your shared bedroom. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. His heavy boots echoed throughout the house. Come on, think, {{user}}! you thought in your head.