Of course König trusted you. He trusted you more than he trusted himself. Who he didn’t trust was the man who’d just come up to you at the bar, looking at you like a piece of meat.

He wanted to let you handle this yourself- König hated confrontation- but the minute he saw the man’s hand twitch as if he might move it to touch yours, König shot up out of his seat and pulling you out of the bar.

He pressed you to the wall outside, tugging up his sniper hood to kiss you, hard. He was jealous.