This was a rather interesting observation you were making; when you were all by yourself looking for Berwald almost every student you walked past looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing since the invention of the television or how a Korean boy approached you rather boldly and said 'naneun geudeul-eul mag-eul su issseubnikka?' (Can I hold them), you had no idea what he said but it sounded cool. When you were with Berwald though, everyone seemed to avoid you like the plague, not even the slightest of glances or even a mumble under their breath; this was brilliant, Berwald was like your ultimate anti-socialisation shield.

You walked beside Berwald through the hallways towards your first class, everyone was still ignoring your existence and it was an incredible feeling; not being the white elephant in the room was so liberating and it was all thanks to a Swedish boy's resting face that looked like it belonged to a criminal getting a mugshot done. As Berwald held a door open for you and allowed you to enter first, you could tell straight away that this was art class; it wasn't written anywhere, there was no art postures, no art equipment out, nothing like that to signal what the classroom was used for. However a blonde boy was lying against a table on his side wearing a dark purple cocktail dress and had a white rose in his mouth, another boy with auburn hair and an odd curl on the left side of his head had a sketch book out and was sketching the posing boy. You looked up at Berwald who was no longer behind you, but had wondered over towards a bookshelf on the other side of room; he gave you an empty sketch book and pencil.

Berwald: taking a seat
Sketch me.

You stared at him with confused (e/c) eyes, but all he did was gesture to you to draw before he turned his head to the side and rested his chin under his hand. You traced your eyes down to the book and shakily opened the book, holding the pencil in your dominant hand and glanced up at Berwald to gage the shape of his face before starting. You weren't a professional artist, but you had a rather strong semi-realistic style that you had developed over the years thanks to a very amazing art teacher you had when you were younger; they seemed to be the only person who believed in your potential and pushed you to grater length than any of your teachers. You haven't drawn in a long time though despite your clear artistic ability, drawing was far too much of an emotional experience and you only ever did it when you wanted to pay respect to that teacher; your old art teacher had passed away a few years ago due to a home invasion and they died trying to protect their infant nephew, the killer was a drunk student from your school.

Berwald: looking at you head on
Your crying.

You snapped out of your daze and unconsciously raised a hand to your eyes, you felt tears racing out and then realised that you have been unconsciously cry for a while. You softly shook your head and gestured to Berwald to resume his original position; Berwald wasn't one deny a basic order from someone he cared about, but you could see in his intimidating blue eyes that he was concerned about you.

Feliciano: pointing at your sketch behind your back
Bella~your a~very skilled a!

The sudden arm over your shoulder slightly startled you, but the corner of your eye traced up the stranger's arm, you slowly turned your head and locked eyes with a boy smiling brightly and eyes closed tightly; it was the boy with the odd curl who was sketching the boy in the dress. You didn't know what to do other than sit there awkwardly and pray that he would soon remove his arm away from your personal bubble; space invasive people are just the worst, they always need to seem to get right up in your face. You tried to say something, but instead you made a weird noise in your throat that sounded like a broken bender; however this got the boy's attention and he pulled his arm away from over your shoulder.
You focused back on the sketch and worked on the final details, Berwald had a great control over his body and had barely made a move through the whole sketching progress; you could hear the two boys taking behind you and it began to irritate you, all you wanted was silence while you focused on the sketch. You finished the sketch and handed it to Berwald, you waited for his opinion but the two boys talking really annoyed you; your eye began to twitch and you started to bend the pencil in your hands, then it snapped. You looked down at the two pieces of the pencil and then up at Berwald who appeared to be death staring you, you dropped your head and stared down at the desk with guilty eyes.

Feliciano: reassuring you
It's a~okay a~Bella may a~people do a~that a!

You lifted up your head and looked over at the foolishly smiling boy, every time he smiled his eyes seemed to be tightly shut; was he always that cheery?

Berwald: humming and slightly nodding his head
It's true, don't worry ____.

The boy in the dark purple dress flipped back a bit of his shoulder length straighten blonde hair and took the sketch book from Berwald, comparing the drawing style with Feliciano's.

Feliks: rubbing his chin
Can you sketch me too? You have a totally different style from Feliciano's and I like it, Toris would love to see me sketched in two different styles.

You: awkwardly mumbling
Ahh, c-can, I, um see, other.. Book.

Feliks handed you over Feliciano's sketch and you were utterly blown away, he's work was practically photo realistic; why would someone want you to draw them when they have a picture that seems like it was taken with a camera compared to a sketch were the artist was still struggling with proportions.

You: looking up at Feliks
Class?

Berwald: getting out of his seat and looking up at the clock
Class started a while ago. This school doesn't have any teachers for classes like art, because they trust the students to do their own thing. There has never been any problems with this system; if your going to draw this Polish boy start now, cause there is about half of the lesson left before we go to English.

You have never heard Berwald talk that much and it was so soothing, you nodded your head nervously and gestured to him to return back to his pose for the sketch; the Italian boy passed you his pencil and took a seat watching you begin the sketch. Berwald pulled up a seat and looked at the sketch you did of him, he quietly tore the sketch out of the book and neatly folded it up, tucking it into the back pocket of his trousers.

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In case your not sure of who some of these new characters are because they aren't that commonly used:
Feliks - Poland
Toris - Lithuania
And everyone knows who Feliciano is... ITALIA!

P.s.
I absolutely love the title of this chapter, puns are my life, so I guess that makes me a bit like Sans

Thank you for reading!

~BlueTimeFly