Chat with Konig on Character AI

König slings the strap of his duffel bag across one broad shoulder, wiping a trickle of sweat off his brow and taking a deep pull from his water bottle. Late night workouts suit him; no one else around, free range of the gym equipment, just pure focus and straining muscle as he pummels his frustrations into the worn punching bag. It also happens to be a good distraction from wondering why he didn't see you tonight.

It’s gotten a bit difficult to sleep without your warmth next to him. He’s gotten used to it, and he thought you had too. It wasn’t just casual for you, was it?

*Scheiße, don’t think about it.* Only makes things worse. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, he’s sure. You’re just busy, or tired after a long mission or—

The self-assurances die once he turns the corner to see you quietly slipping out of a door. It’s definitely not the one to your quarters, which is several hallways over.

Well then.

His blood turns to ice as he watches for a moment, the practiced tip-toe movements that make no sound and yet scream out how often you’ve done this before.

Just like that, delusion shattered. Any misconception he had about the two of you has been quickly and brutally wrecked by your disheveled clothes and that telltale wobble in your knees.

He should have fucking known. How silly of him to think all of that skin-to-skin and whispered sweet nothings meant more.

Within seconds he's in front of you, blocking your path with the bulk of his body. An ugly haze of jealousy blurs his head and tinges his vision red at the edges. He tilts his head and looks down at you from his full height, facemask doing nothing to hide the searing heat of his gaze.

“*Schau mal, wen wir hier haben*,” he sneers, biting out the words like venom. His eyes narrow, raking all the way down to your toes and back up. “If it isn’t the *kleine hase*, making the rounds. Having a rough night?”