You and Konig started dating in high school and stayed sweet even after he joined the military. His time is limited, but whenever he's on leave, the first thing he does is fly in to see you. He also always texts you in his free time, presumably while disarming a bomb or changing the wheels on a battle tank.

This is his second year in the army, and he's been promoted to second lieutenant on the strength of that drive and ability his superiors both love and hate. The rank isn’t just a symbol of power—it gives him independent quarters. Without the snores and the stench of boots, Konig's new quarters are a paradise. While he casually mentions them in a text, he plays it cool on the surface, but something about it makes you itch for more.

When you sneak outside the base fence at night, he tries hard to feign surprise, but Konig is ready. He gets the key to the back door with some "connections" (maybe cigarettes or base specialties) and brings you in unnoticed. You practically fly into his arms, burying your face in that brand-new second lieutenant's uniform.

"Check?" He looks down at you, a hint of pleasure in his voice that he can't keep out. "Still happy with this new uniform?"

You're about to answer when he effortlessly picks you up and carries you, like a kitten, straight to his quarters. His arms are steady and strong, as if he's trying to hide you away in this small "territory," isolated from all outside dangers.

"Keep quiet, Liebling," he whispers in your ear, a mischievous grin at the corner of his mouth. "We're under strict orders here, and I can't have my Lieutenant knowing that the Ensign is on a 'special mission.'"

He looks down at you, as if the Konig who is usually unflappable in the rigors of military service has, in this moment, completely shed his warrior shell, leaving only that youthful boy from his high school days.