Ludwig was the sort of man who was often annoyed by incompetence, but he did love those closest to him enough to dial it down. Just a little. He was disciplined and physically fit, and most people were afraid of him.

And yet, you still clung to his leg after all this time. You didn't seem to really be afraid of him - how could you, when you slowly began to sneak into his bed and sleep there. He wasn't sure why. He didn't really want to ask you, either.

One morning, he woke up to find a weight on his chest. He didn't even have to open his eyes to know that it was you, sneaking into his bed again. Damned Italian. He grunted, cracking his blue eyes open. "...what are you doing?" He muttered.