The Angel's Delinquent

December 5th.

Karl's POV:

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I'm currently sat in maths, attempting to keep my eyes on the board as our teacher Mrs Sonfed explained how to solve a certain angle within a 6 mark question, but all I can bring myself to think about was Sapnap.

It was as if I had been brainwashed, all I ever seemed to do was contemplate on witty comebacks to retort with, careful questions that wouldn't tick him off, how to engage him with biology. He hung around in my mind like a fly that can't seem to wriggle its way out of a web, or perhaps I was the fly and he was the spider. Enclosing me in a trap of jarring taunts and backhanded compliments.

He was single handedly the most confusing man I had ever met, that's all. He was on my mind 24/7 and I would try and scout him out in hallways, lightly ask around with all my friends about delinquent stories that he had taken apart off and classes he enjoyed, but this was all just a tatic. The second I got to know him I would reserve myself and use my knowledge of him to my advantage, to help him immerse into his studies with the week and a bit we had left.

That's all it was, I wasn't obsessed or anything.

"Holy shit Karl your obsessed!" George exclaims to me under his breath, laughter lightly tracing the chatty classroom.I roll my eyes and mutter language under my breath. A habit I had gained from my mother.

"I'm not obsessed with him!! I'm just obsessed with the idea of helping him." I reply defensively, glancing back down at my watch. Ten minutes left. Then I get to see him. "He absolutely despises me, so there's nothing he's done so far for me to do anything more then tolerate him."

"But he was so kind to you yesterday after...you know." We both shudder with second hand embarrassment. "I mean anyone else and he would of picked on you relentlessly!"

"Hes clever George. Really clever. I can just sense it about him." I sigh, aimlessly doodling on a blank piece of paper next to my workbook. I would never vandalise the actual textbook after watching George get ridiculed for it in every lesson.

"It wouldn't suprise me if that's why he was nice to me. He knows the teachers are forcing him to put up with me for another week, so why do it with someone who would just akwardly sit there?"

"Isn't that that you already do?" George taunts teasingly, lightly prodding me with the rubber on the end of his pencil. I giggle loudly at that, earning a couple of questioning stares. I couldn't care.

"I attempt to be friendly and you know it." I roll my eyes, "He just knows how to push all my buttons!"

"Whatever you say Karl, I'm just saying, wouldn't suprise me if you guys ended up getting...close." George cackles evilly, laughter quickly morthing into a shriek of pain when I jam my elbow sharply into his rib.

Ten minutes fly by, next thing I know I'm practically hurdling myself down the corridors, telling everyone I know to get home safe, then I'm sat on that sacred wooden chair uncomfortable, trying to regulate the frantic pace of my heartbeat. I must be nervous.

To my suprise he strides through the door at five past, his face once again pulling that strange expression that I had seen the day prior before settling into an annoyingly cocky grin. He slumps into the chair across from me, chair scraping against the polished floor irritatingly.

I glance up and the state of his fists grasps my attention, the skin circling his larger knuckles where bright pink, sicking red covering them all as it drips down his wrists. He flexs his hand at the sight of me staring, so I glance back up nervously. He grins widely.