Days later
Klaus stood in front of the wall behind the school, spray cans in hand, feeling the cool breeze brush against his face as he set to work. He'd skipped his class, the restlessness in him taking over. The quiet solitude of the back of the school was the perfect place to let his thoughts flow freely, much like his art. He had always been drawn to expression through paint, finding solace in it.
The large blank wall in front of him was his canvas, and he smiled as he started with the base layer. He pulled the first can of spray paint from his bag, shaking it with a rhythm that felt almost like a beat to his actions. He made the first stroke, and then another, layering them carefully to form a deep, dark sky. He added the swirling brushstrokes that represented the stars, mimicking Van Gogh's Starry Night, a piece that had always fascinated him with its energy and vibrancy.
The sound of the spray can hissing as it released paint was almost meditative. Klaus lost track of time as he worked, the outside world fading away with each stroke of the can. He was consumed by the flow of creativity, the way the colors blended and swirled into something that felt almost alive. The dark blues mixed with bright yellows, creating a swirl of light that seemed to pulse on the wall.
As the image of the starry night began to take shape, Klaus stepped back to admire his work. He smirked, stepping closer to add a few finishing touches. It wasn't perfect, not like the original masterpiece, but it was his version—raw, unrefined, and personal.
He stepped back again, admiring it from a distance. The sky seemed alive, the stars swirling as if caught in a cosmic dance. He let out a sigh, feeling a sense of satisfaction. The wall behind the school was no longer just a forgotten corner—it was his canvas, a place for his thoughts to be seen by anyone who cared to look.
As he stood there, feeling the weight of his boredom melt away in the form of art, Klaus couldn't help but think of Alex. If she saw this, she'd probably make some sarcastic comment or tease him about the swirls of paint. But there was something about her that made him feel grounded, like she saw through all the layers of his carefully constructed persona.
He smiled at the thought of her and decided that, one day, he'd show her this. Maybe she'd see it as just another impulsive act, but he was pretty sure she'd see something deeper in it.
For now, though, Klaus stood alone, surrounded by the energy of his art, waiting for the world to catch up.
Klaus made his way to the cafeteria, his mind still half-lost in the starry night he'd just painted. He could hear the sounds of students chatting and laughing, the usual hustle and bustle of lunch hour. As he stepped into the crowded room, his eyes scanned the tables for any sign of his usual crew.
Then, he saw her.
Alex sat at a table near the corner, her nose buried in a book as usual. But today, she wasn't alone. A group of bullies had gathered around her, making her the target.
The boy wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulders, his grip too tight and inappropriate, making her visibly uncomfortable. "Why don't you ditch this place and come with me?" he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "I'll show you a good time."
Alex immediately pulled away, her discomfort evident, but she didn't hesitate. "No," she said firmly, her eyes flashing with defiance and disgust.
The boy, seeing that his attempt to intimidate her had failed, sneered and tightened his grip. "You sure you want to turn me down, nerd?" he said.
Klaus watched from the sidelines, his irritation growing with every second. He couldn't stand the way this guy was treating Alex, like she was some object for him to claim. Stepping forward, Klaus narrowed his eyes, his voice cold and sharp. "She said no," he said, his tone low and menacing. "So take a hint. Your mom didn't teach you to respect a lady?"
The boy's eyes narrowed at Klaus, a flash of anger crossing his face. "What's your problem?" he spat. "I can talk however I want to that nerdy bitch."
Klaus's frown deepened, the air around him growing tense. He took another step closer to the boy, his voice steady but with a dangerous edge. "I'm warning you. Stay away from her before this gets bad."
The boy didn't back down, instead stepping forward, puffing out his chest. "What are you gonna do?" he sneered, clearly not expecting Klaus to stand his ground.
Klaus didn't flinch. But just as the confrontation seemed to escalate, five other boys appeared behind the original one, circling them. The leader of the group smirked, now feeling more confident with his backup. "You can't fight all of us," he taunted.
Klaus's eyes flicked between the boys, his stance still unyielding. The usual smirk he wore had faded, replaced by an intensity that sent a clear message. "Can't I?" he said, his voice even and calm, though the fire in his eyes was unmistakable.
The boy, angered by Klaus's calm demeanor, lunged forward, throwing a punch at him. Klaus, with a swift sidestep, effortlessly avoided the punch. Before the boy could recover, Klaus swung his leg around in a powerful roundhouse kick, landing squarely on the boy's face.
The force of the blow sent the boy stumbling backward, crashing into the ground with a loud thud. The cafeteria fell silent for a moment, everyone witnessing the swift, fluid movement of Klaus's counterattack.
Klaus straightened up his clothes, his eyes still locked on the remaining boys. He wiped a hand over his face, unbothered by the confrontation. His voice was cool, almost mocking. "Shall we, gentlemen?"
His challenge hung in the air, daring the others to make their move.
Another boy, fueled by rage, rushed toward Klaus with his fists swinging wildly. Klaus calmly stepped back, easily dodging the wild strikes. With a sharp block and a swift sidestep, he avoided the boy's next punch before spinning around in a fluid motion, executing a perfect tornado kick. The kick landed with precision, striking the boy in the side. The force of the blow caused the boy to stagger, collapsing to the floor, groaning in pain.
Klaus stood tall, his posture relaxed but confident as he surveyed the remaining group of bullies. His voice was calm, but laced with a dangerous edge.
"To whom it may concern," Klaus said, locking eyes with the boys, "You are making a great mistake if you think that you can beat me. But you can't."
The remaining four boys rushed at Klaus in unison, throwing punches and kicks in a chaotic flurry. But Klaus was too quick. With fluid precision, he dodged and countered each of their moves, dispatching them one by one with swift, calculated strikes.
The first boy lunged at Klaus with a wild swing, only to be met with a sharp elbow to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. As he crumpled to the ground, Klaus smoothly turned to the next attacker, dodging a punch and delivering a perfectly placed knee to his chest, sending him sprawling backward.
The third boy charged at him from behind, but Klaus anticipated the move, spinning around just in time to deliver a swift, powerful jab to his jaw, knocking him off balance. The fourth and final boy tried to lunge at Klaus with a desperate tackle, but Klaus side-stepped, letting the boy crash into the floor with a heavy thud.
Klaus surveyed the scene—six bullies on the ground, groaning in pain, unable to move. His expression remained calm, though there was an underlying intensity in his eyes as he wiped his hands clean with a handkerchief, making sure to remove any trace of the skirmish.
"Touch her one more time," Klaus said, his voice dangerously low, "And you shall break some bones next time."
With that, he turned his back on the defeated group, walking over to Alex with a smirk, completely unfazed by the fight. The bullies, unable to respond, could only watch as Klaus and Alex walked away from the scene.
As they walked out of the cafeteria, Klaus glanced at Alex, his tone softening. "You're okay?" he asked, his eyes scanning her for any signs of distress. "I don't like watching filth touch you."
Alex, still processing what had just happened, smiled at him. "Thank you," she said sincerely, though there was a playful glint in her eyes. "Although, I didn't know an artsy guy like you could fight like that."
Klaus grinned, his usual smugness returning. "You know," he said with a mock thoughtful tone, "It's called martial arts." He paused, then added with a chuckle, "Kind of like art, just with more... punching and kicking."
Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "So, you're a martial artist and an artist, huh? Guess you're a master of both forms."
Klaus laughed, shrugging. "Well, you could say that. After all, everything's art, even fighting. It's just about finding the right stroke... or kick."