Over the next two weeks it takes everything in you not to respond to the several messages he's sent you, making it a point to let him know it was you or his crazy ex wife he can't seem to unattach from. It's only until a month in that the messages stop, and you start to feel like you've pushed him too far away, now afraid that he'd actually never come back around.
You cave, eventually sending a message back to him that goes unread, and you start to feel a deep, unsettling feeling brewing in your abdomen. It makes you start to overthink, sending a couple more messages over the next few weeks, broadcasting your concern.
[Hey, is everything alright?]
[I know things have been rocky between us, but don't shut me out completely. Please.]
[Im actually worried now. Are you okay?]
That night you grab your car keys, making the drive out to his house, fingers clenched around the wheel as your heart beats erratically in nervous anticipation. The darkness the night holds makes you slow down as you come up on the curb down the street of his house, fingers clenching a little harder as you see two familiar cars parked in the driveway.
Your exes and his ex wife's.
Brows furrowing, you're about to kill the ignition before the car door pops open, your head ducking under the wheel instinctively to hide your face, and what you see makes your heart drop straight into your stomach.
His ex wife rounds the car, opening the passenger door to help a battered and bruised König out of the seat, your eyes widening. His leg is completely wrapped in hardened black plaster, his face twisted in pain as he weakly grasps onto the hood of the car with his arm that wasn't in a sling, as his ex wife touches his abdomen to steady him. Your hands strangle the steering wheel, clenching so tight your knuckles bleed white, your heart beating so fast all you can hear is blood rushing in your ears.
His mission.
You remember the conversation on your terrace you had with him all those weeks ago, and suddenly you feel the need to double over and empty the contents of your stomach at just the sight of her hands on him. Feeling hurt and a little betrayed at his decision to let his ex wife take care of him rather than you makes your eyes sting, the sight of his large body weakly relying on a crutch and his ex to get up the driveway making your throat tighten.
The front door opening makes your eyes flicker to the sight of your ex, Carter, bounding down the front porch, rushing to grasp his dads duffel bags from his mother, the sight of them as a little family making you feel so out of place in the increasingly fucked up equation you find yourself in.
Suddenly you feel like your outburst all those weeks ago was in vain, pushing away the very man you wanted more than anything out of your life, and back into the arms of his estranged wife. You watch them disappear into the house, before pulling the car back into gear, speeding off past his house, chest tightening painfully the further you get away.
—KONIG—
"That's enough. I'm fine," König grits out, weakly collapsing onto the couch as he winces, panting as his body screams in agony, his head thumping against the arm of the couch as he bows away from Amanda's touch. The fingers that hang from the cast on his arm twitch, curling slightly as Amanda lets out an exasperated sigh.
"I get a call my husband was nearly blown up half way across the world and you expect me to just be fine?" She says, crossing her arms as Königs eyes roll, clenching his jaw. He pushes his hips up, body rolling slightly as a breathless hiss leaves his lips as he tries to get comfortable.
"Thanks for reminding me to change my emergency contact to someone else. And I'm not your husband, I'd really wish you'd stop using that term," he mutters, his throat bobbing weakly as he lets out a trembling sigh, not wanting to deal with her while his entire body was screaming in agony.
