Fighting Free

Chapter 12

"I have no idea what you're thinking about, love, but it's most definitely not the landscape you're supposed to draw..." Klaus smirked, putting his hands on your shoulders in a gesture that started to feel familiar, while he looked over your shoulder at the paper that had stayed frighteningly blank for way too long. He was right, as he was pretty much always in his observations.
"If there's something on your mind, you can burden me with it, you know that, don't you? I'm not made of glass, I'm finding my way back more and more, and I most definitely do not need to be cuddled and kept out of everything vaguely disturbing."

You sighed, putting your hand on one of his, gripping it, before you looked up. You couldn't tell him what was on your mind. You had no idea how to start the conversation you didn't want to have. Hey, I don't think you killed your mother but I do want to know what happened might be a bit too blunt.
"There's nothing, ok? I'm just a bit distracted. And intimidated by your skills. I barely dare to show you what I'm capable of." You looked over to his side of the table where he had been finishing a drawing he had started working on in the art class you had indeed started to take.

"Ah, ah...", he said, leaning over you. "I thought we made the deal I wouldn't laugh at your stick men. That deal includes me praising your landscapes as well. Your stick men were way better than I thought they would be, so you can do this as well..." He smirked. "Here, let me help you..." He leaned over you a bit more, so you could feel his entire body pressed against your back, and he took your right hand in his.

You still had the pencil in that hand, even when you hadn't managed to put it on paper yet.
"What the hell are you doing?", you frowned. You were supposed to draw this, not him...

"Teaching you... ", he whispered in your ear. "You win at life, most of the time... but I know I'm the way better artist. I want to help you with this." He chuckled, resting his chin on your head.
"And I enjoy touching you immediately, so you can't deny me a reason to do that..." He put the pencil on the paper, starting to draw the first lines.

You just let him do it, enjoying feeling him against you just as much as he apparently did. The warmth radiating from him, the firm but soft way he was holding your hand, the way you could feel his breath in your hair... you followed what he was doing for a short while, already seeing that what he was doing was way above what you could ever do, before you pulled back your arm, dropped the pencil on the table and turned to the side, pulling him in your lap.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around your neck.
"I'm not going to say I am not enjoying this, but what about the homework? What will the teacher say?" His grin never left his face, so you were pretty sure he couldn't care less about that.

"Look at you, suddenly caring about authority figures... It thought that was way beneath you." You had noticed how he had loved to draw again, to paint, to feel a brush or a pencil in his hand, but you had also noticed and heard how much critique he had on the poor woman giving the class to amateurs. She was totally unprepared for someone like Klaus who would probably be able to get into art school, if he would have the money for it.

He stood up, pulling you up and quickly turned the tables by sitting down again with you on his lap. He wrapped his arm around you.
"This feels way better...", he smirked. "And no, I could not care less about what she's saying... there's nothing she can teach me, although I am grateful for the opportunity she gives me to finally paint again. You, on the other hand...", he grinned, silencing the answer you wanted to give him with a kiss. "But you were the one who brought me there, so I don't care what you draw... I'll be glad anyway."

You rolled your eyes, but you nested yourself closer to him anyway. It felt good, being close. It felt comfortable. It was in the moments like these you could almost forget what you had read in the file that was still hidden.
"I'll just pretend I haven't heard that first part then.", you smiled, kissing him again. It was too easy to get distracted by him. It was only too easy to drown in his smile, in his eyes, in the way he looked at you. You didn't even think about slipping your hands under his shirt, running your hands over his stomach.