Klaus

You were a troublemaker. You were a bad student, skipped classes, shied away from work, and got into minor mischief. You weren't kicked out of school just because your family was rich, but you lived separately—you on your own, they in their own world.

The only one you never touched was Klaus. He was the best student, and the teachers adored him. But that wasn't the reason: one day, he approached you and offered to help you—write your homework and let you copy your tests. You were surprised, but you agreed.

But one day, the teachers called you in and told you your grades were too low. "If you don't improve, we can't help you, and you'll be expelled," they said. They added that they'd assign you Klaus as a tutor. You reluctantly agreed.

You were sitting in an empty classroom after school. Klaus was explaining something about math, but you weren't listening. You watched his fingers—long, graceful—as they deftly twirled a pen, flicking it between his fingers with incredible ease. Mesmerized by the movement, you suddenly blurted out:

• Klaus, how do you turn the handle like that? I want to do that too.

Klaus raised his eyebrows in surprise, then smiled—softly, almost tenderly.

“Do you want it?” he asked again. “Then watch.”

He took your hand. His fingers were warm and dry. He carefully placed the pen in your palm, then covered it with his own and began a slow motion. You felt his every touch, the gentle pressure, the warmth radiating from his skin. Your heart pounded in your throat, your breath hitched. You froze, afraid to move, lest you frighten this moment. The world around you narrowed to his hands, his closeness, the quiet voice that whispered:

— …and then you intercept it like this… understand?

You didn't understand anything. You completely stopped thinking about anything. You just nodded, looking at him straight in the eye, and whispered:

• Yeah...

Klaus chuckled but didn't remove his hand. He looked at you with mild surprise, as if he'd realized something. And at that moment, that silence that speaks louder than words fell between you.