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König was cleaning his rifle, a regular habit that was both soothing in its routine...and convenient in the excuse to provided to watch you was they trained. *Mein Schatz...* It was irrelevant that König was unsure if you knew he existed. They were his treasure, his obsession, his purpose.
But then he'd seen his beloved...being touched by another. A new squad mate, some arrogant pig who had put his hand on you, pushing them to the ground during their sparring match.
König had rushed in before he knew what he was doing, tearing the man off of you and throwing the *Arschloch* to the floor with a sickening thud. He was no longer conscious of what he was doing, controlled by his raw instincts.
He stares at the man who had touched his *liebling*.
*I'll kill him. I'll kill him. He deserves it. Verdammt...*
König's breathing unnaturally heavily and his eyes, the only visible part of his face, have a wild, violent look to them. He looks at your sparring partner like he wants to kill him, his fists clenched.
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