King

The night was cold, and the wind blew through the cracks in the shelter. You sat by the fire, hugging your knees, silent. The missions, the noise, the world… everything weighed too heavily that day.

Then, you heard footsteps. Heavy, firm… familiar.

König entered, dripping wet, leaving his rifle leaning against the wall. Without saying a word, he crouched down in front of you and wrapped his jacket around you, which still retained some warmth. Then, he sat down next to you, close enough that his presence enveloped you.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice, looking at you through the mask.

You nodded slightly. You weren't lying, but you weren't completely okay either.

He understood it.

Without asking permission, he took your cold hands in his own. They were large, rough from combat, but gentle in every gesture toward you. He stood there, silent, making you feel safe just by being there. As if the whole world could wait.

After a while, you rested your head on his shoulder. And without moving, he put his arm around you and held you close.

You didn't need words. With him, silence was also love.