König x Reader- Bad taste in men

Part 4

It was suppose to get easier, but it hadn't yet. Being alone in an empty apartment, when you were use to rowdy men who burped at the dinner table and yelled at the tv when games were on.

Isn't that what people say, "It get's better. Just give it time." Maybe that statement was only valid for your first heartbreak. How could it get any better after your third or tenth. How much more could a person have to give after repairing the pieces of their shattered heart for the tenth time?

No matter how many breaks the pieces would never fit the same. Jagged edges meet other jagged edges, doing their best to fit with the little gaps missing where they were once joined seamlessly together.

You were doing your best to deal with a heartbreak caused by not just one person but three. But every time you felt that thump against your chest, you also felt those jagged pieces rub against each other. You hadn't realized how much it hurt to keep living when your own heart cut itself in an effort to keep beating.

Atleast when you lost your parents, you had gained three family members in the process. This time, you gained nothing but lost everything.

Suddenly, eating became a task you didn't care for anymore.

Every single time you sat at the table, you expected to look up to see König smirking at you, Soap arguing with Ghost over something stupid in the background. But when reality sunk in, each one of them had faded across from you like an image in the clouds leaving you alone. Again.

Here one minute, gone the next.

Even sleeping was near impossible now. The echo of music against the wall that had separated your room from König's was no longer there to lull you to sleep.

The only thing echoing throughout the apartment was your heartbeat, or what was left of it.

Shifting in the bed you turn your body to the side, eyes landing on the hard wood floor. Focusing on the scratches and dents, you had wondered what their story was, one scratch resembling a similar one to yours back home...back at base.

You had a special floor board you hid things under, letters, pictures, and stupid little things from missions that you found meaning in. After losing so much you held on to anything that made you feel...something.   

König had texted last minute that he was coming to your room, bringing pizza and your favorite soda. Haphazardly, shoving the things into your hiding spot, you hadn't realized you didn't push the piece of wood back in completely, causing König to trip, pizza and drinks in hand.

You hadn't realized the laugh you belted out was different than any other Konig had ever heard from you.

He had known what you lost, and how you lost part of yourself as a result of it.

This was the first time he saw a blinding sparkle in your eyes while you laughed yourself to tears. It was entrancing to watch you let go of your pain for a second, even at the expense of his, knowing his knees were going to be bruised in the morning.

Though, in that moment, he had decided, he would fall a hundred times over to see you experience happiness not dampened by your loss.

König looks up from the scratch on the floor, his eyes feeling heavy at the empty bed.

He hated it. Hated ever second, between and after losing you.

He though about how badly you must miss your things, knowing if you had texted him and asked nothing else of him, he would find a way to bring them to you, no matter where you were in the world.

His eyes slide over to your vinyl and record station, realizing just how cold that part of your room looked without you smiling up at him, going off on a tangent about how and why listening to vinyls was the better music experience.