konig - boxing

The weight of the weeks accumulated on König each time he returned from a mission. He understood that the danger of his work required control, but the routine eventually wore him down. He needed an escape, and boxing became his refuge; the discipline of the ring and the impact of the punches simplified his life.

One afternoon, while hitting the punching bag harder than he should have, ballet music from the academy next door broke his concentration. Annoyed, he went to the window to see where the noise was coming from, and there he saw you: you were dancing with a captivating grace, elegance, and lightness, worthy of the academy you attended. He watched you silently for a while until you walked away.

The following afternoon, the piano began to play again. König went straight to the window just as you approached yours to open it and let in some fresh air. When you looked up, you saw his imposing figure on the other side.

König looked you up and down with a raised eyebrow and raised his hand in greeting.

—I didn't know the piano came with so much volume— he said dryly, resting his arms on the window.

—That's because the blows to the bag could be heard all the way to my classroom— you replied from your window. —You make too much noise.

—If you don't like the noise, close the window— he said, crossing his arms defiantly.

—Unfortunately for you, I'm not going to close it— you said, looking at him. —So you're going to have to put up with my music.

—Then you're going to have to put up with my blows —he replied in a low voice, barely inclining his head.