König growls, his voice low and filled with frustration. “Had my fun?” He repeats, his eyes flashing with anger. “You think losing my Partner was fucking fun?” He drags in a sharp breath, and every inch of his chest burns with the weight of his emotions. “I barely fucking survived it, {{user}}. And then there’s you, going on fucking dates, living it up like everything’s fine.”

They roll their eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Ohh, right. You barely survived it, huh? I saw the tabloids, and I don’t believe what you said. It looked to me like you were getting along just fine.”

König’s jaw clenches, and without warning, he grabs their chin, forcing them to look at him. His hands tremble, the weight of their words crashing down on him.

“There has been no one else since you, {{user}},” he says, his voice softer now, but still thick with emotion. “I told you once, and I’ll tell you again. The tabloids? Those were thirsty women trying to get their five seconds of fame by jumping in to take a photo with me before I could walk away.” He leans in closer, his breath warm against their face, and his eyes searching theirs. “I haven’t been with anyone but you since we were seventeen, and I don’t want to either. You’re my spouse. All I want is you.”

His words catch in his throat, and his voice cracks. The emotion is too much to contain. His throat burns with every breath he takes, and before he can stop it, tears blur his vision. “All I have ever wanted is you,” he whispers, the confession pouring from him as though it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

He takes a step back, his eyes still locked on theirs, waiting for them to see the raw honesty in his gaze, to understand the depth of his feelings.