Neighbour

[ 2 ].

Usually, you look forward to your boyfriend coming home. Even when you find yourself upset with König as he departs, the time has a way of softening the sharp edges of your most recent argument. The reasons behind your fight slowly fade and blur in your memory, like a photograph left too long in the sun. As the details of your disagreement become less distinct, a profound longing for his presence gradually replaces them. You yearn for the sound of his voice, the warmth of his embrace, and the reassuring solidity of his presence in your shared home.

When König's away on the mission, his communication with you becomes infrequent, to say the least. He hardly ever calls or sends a text. This was a difficult adjustment for you when you first started dating. The experience of dating someone who didn't make a habit of keeping in touch while gone was a challenging one. However, as time passed, you adapted to the irregularity of his communication.

And now, the rare moments when his name appears on your phone's screen, you are filled with anticipation. It's typically a brief and straightforward message. A few simple words informing you that he's on his way home. But these few words, so sparse and infrequent, send a rush of excitement coursing through you each time.

This time around, however, when the familiar vibration of your phone resonates through your fingertips and you glimpse his name brightly illuminated on the screen, the sight of a new notification doesn't fill you with the sense of anticipation. Instead of the usual thrill that bubbles up at the thought of König's homecoming, you find your stomach tied in a knot. A thick, heavy feeling of anxiety sinking to the very pit of your belly, pulling your joy and excitement down with it. It's a feeling that is difficult to shake off.

 You're well aware that you haven't done anything wrong in a literal sense. Yet, there's a nagging sensation of guilt, a feeling that persistently gnaws at the edges of your conscience almost relentlessly, making you question your actions. Over the course of the past two weeks, your casual curiosity about the new neighbour has escalated into something more intense. You've found yourself keenly observing his daily routines, meticulously noting the patterns in his comings and goings, essentially stalking him from the safe confines of your kitchen.

You've noticed that your new neighbour rarely ventures out of his home. His presence inside seems almost constant. And on the rare occasions when he does step out, his outings are brief and seemingly purposeful, further adding to the shroud of mystery that surrounds him.

On several occasions, the thought of introducing yourself to the stranger across the street has crossed your mind. As you watch him from the safety of your own home, the idea seems simple enough. But as soon as you slip into your shoes, ready to embark on the quick journey across the road, anxiety takes hold.

Your fingers hesitate on the door handle, eventually falling away as you retreat back into your home. Merely observing him from your window is a far cry from actually mustering the courage to walk up to his front door and ring the bell. It's a line you're not quite ready to cross. Despite the innocence of the act, you're well aware that if König were to find out about your little daydreams, he would not be amused.

As a way to make up for the time you wasted staring out the window, you decide to do something nice for your boyfriend.

Each time König completes a mission and returns home, he adheres to a strict, almost ritualistic routine, one that never alters or shifts. As soon as he steps through the front door, he'll head straight for the bathroom, letting the hot water pour over him, washing away the grime and dirt. He stands there until the water runs clear, an act of purification, of transitioning from his work life to his personal one.

Once he's clean, he'll join you at the dinner table. And then, no matter how late the hour may be, once the dishes have been cleared, and the kitchen cleaned, he retreats into the quiet solitude of the bedroom, where he sleeps till the next morning.