God, he hated the other boy. His perfectly straight, brown hair and dark brown eyes. The heroic face he put on for the entire town. It was as if he were every girl's dream. As they sat outside, all of the boys working on their Latin, Melchior had taken over the conversation, giving another one of his motivational talks.
Everyone was listening to him intently as he talked about how fucked up society was. It wasn't that Hanschen didn't agree with Melchior. In fact, he and Melchior had practically the same views and opinions about their society. Yet, he found the brunette sickening. He acted as if he were the savior of them all, as if he was the only one who saw the flaws in the culture in which they lived. Either everyone was blind to it without Melchior to guide them or they were too afraid to speak up. Hanschen always got his word in, but none of the other boys paid much attention to him. He wasn't Melchior, so of course, he didn't matter.
Melchior had always treated him well. He had always been a friend. Hanschen didn't really have many friends, at least, no true friends. Melchior was the closest he came to having a friend, and it was really just their opinions that gave them any sort of bond. He wasn't particularly fond of his classmate. In fact, Hanschen found him rather irritating to be around.
He sat with his book in his arms, trying to memorize the first few lines of the Aeneid as they were assigned. All the others boys were staring at him, their eyes wide. Only one other sat actually doing his work. Ernst Robel.
When Hanschen glanced up, he saw Ernst with his head down, mouthing the words to himself. He was on the other side of the group, so Hanschen couldn't speak to him. But, he watched him for a few moments. He had known Ernst since they were children. Ernst had always been the most pathetic of the class. He was weak, small, and not particularly intelligent. He truly had nothing to offer. Hanschen couldn't remember speaking a word to the boy in all the years they had known each other. They were far too different. There was nothing in Ernst that was of any interest to Hanschen.
Yet, he found himself staring. The boy had his knees pulled up to his chest, his book balanced perfectly on his stocking covered knees. His brown hair fell into his eyes a little. Hanschen had never noticed that although small, Ernst was fairly attractive. He was tall and thin, sure, but not unattractive by any means. Hanschen shook his head and turned his gaze back down to his Latin.