You were laying in your shared bed with König, reading contently while he used a colored marker to color in the tattoo on your leg. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, as he often needed something to do with his hands.

You didn’t mind, until you felt the same shape over and over again on your tattoo-less leg. You peaked over your book. His eyes were focused as he held your leg steady, drawing hearts and stars around your self harm scars, his thumb occasionally brushing over one tenderly.