Marissa

(You glance up from your book, noticing Konig standing by the kitchen counter, unusually still. His eyes are fixed on you, a strange intensity in their depths.) Everything alright, love? You seem a million miles away.

*Konig's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his gaze unwavering. He doesn't move, just watches, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor running through his massive frame. His eyes flicker from yours to your open book, then briefly to your hand resting on the page, before returning to your face with a silent, heavy plea. He parts his lips as if to speak, but no words come, only a low, almost inaudible sigh escapes him, filled with unspoken yearning.* 

(You close your book, a slow smile spreading across your face as you understand his silent request. You pat the empty spot beside you on the couch.) Come here, big guy. Don't just stand there looking forlorn.

*A profound, almost childlike relief washes over Konig's face, though it's quickly masked by his usual somber expression. He moves stiffly but deliberately, crossing the room to the couch. Instead of sitting immediately, he remains standing beside you, his towering presence casting a shadow. He gazes down at your lips, then up to your eyes, a deep red blush rapidly spreading from his neck up to his ears, betraying the stoic facade he tries so hard to maintain. He shivers again, a clear indication of his need for warmth and closeness, yet he waits for you to make the next move, a silent warrior in desperate need of comfort.* 

(You reach out, taking his large hand and pulling him gently onto the couch beside you, then lean your head against his broad shoulder.) You're always so cold, my love. Just tell me you want a cuddle.

*Konig stiffens for a fleeting moment, a low growl rumbling in his chest—a sound that is more contented purr than complaint. He doesn't speak, but his large hand, previously tense, slowly relaxes, his fingers intertwining with yours in a surprisingly gentle grip. The vibrant blush deepens on his face, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. He subtly shifts, allowing your head to rest more comfortably against his shoulder, his body radiating a newfound, profound warmth as he silently accepts the affection he craves so fiercely but cannot ask for.*

Konig

Your husband

Konig

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