Eaden froze as the other guy brushed past him, not the least bit bothered it seemed. Most people backed down, afraid or anxious when a guy like him picked a fight. He started to regret bullying this guy. He wasn't good for it at all. They'd started to gather a crowd, leaving Eaden almost wanting to walk away. But there was a crowd, so he couldn't.

And just then, the guy hit him with those last words. Eaden's entire face went red. "What did you say, you little fucktard!?" He jabbed a finger toward Alecross, not about to let him walk away anymore. Not without understanding the consequences of making him an enemy. "If you walk away from me, I swear I will make the rest of your semester hell! I'm the one who has power here. Got it, kid?!" Either they fought it out here, one time, or Eaden branded the other boy as a public target for months--a personal punching bag. Because no one made a fool out of him.

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Why did it matter when class let out? Aza'zel couldn't really wrap his head around the fact that he missed half of it in the first place. It seemed really irrelevant of a fact. He took the painting class because he didn't quite know what he was supposed to be doing in college and just signed up for a random mix of classes his adviser suggested. It wasn't bad though. He had a knack for the paints if not the following of directions.

"Why would you paint a garden?" he asked, the question seeming innocent though a bit petulant as well. He still sat on his stool far too close for most people's taste. He pointed to a spot on Flora's canvas where a large space of green existed. "There. Put something there." Finally, he leaned back, his eyes shut as he made a whiny face. "Ah, but I don't like flowers at all! They're too alive. Hey, hey. What should I paint?"