Larry One Shots

English Tutor

By: http://twiinklinstyles.tumblr.com

Summary: 13 year old Louis is falling behind in English, so 22 year old uni student, Harry, helps him out.. in more ways than one

“Mr Tomlinson!”

Louis wakes up with a jolt, eyes wide and looking around frantically. He blushes when he notices everyone’s staring at him and where he is. He fell asleep in class.. Again. 

“Nice of you to come back to us, Mr. Tomlinson,” his English teacher, Mrs. Johnson says overly sweet. Louis cringes, he’s in deep shit. “Would you like to inform me, why you fell asleep in my class, for the 3rd day in a row? Am I boring you?” She finishes, eyes glaring at the young pupil. 

“N-no miss. I’m sorry,” Louis stutters, head bowed and eyes not leaving the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He can feel Mrs. Johnson’s stare on him, he blushes harder. 

“Stay after class, I’d like to have a word with you.” 

Louis nods as he hears his class mates laugh, and Mrs. Johnson muttering a ‘good’ and continuing on with the lesson.  

Louis just wishes the ground under him would swallow him whole. 

—

Louis stays seated as the bell rings, listening to the random chatter of his excited class mates talking about their plans for the weekend. He knows his plans for the weekend are going to be non existent once his mother finds out about this, he sighs. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep in class, English isn’t really he’s favourite subject, not only does it bore him but he just doesn’t understand it. 

He hears Mrs. Johnson clear her throat and he looks at her, then she states bluntly, “Mr. Tomlinson, you’re falling behind in my class.”

“Oh.” He says dumbly. 

Mrs. Johnson sighs, eyes boring into Louis’ own, she looks frustrated. “Falling asleep in my class, is unacceptable. As is, not handing in homework on time, or at all. I’ve spoken to your mother, and we’ve both come to the conclusion that you need a little bit of help.” 

“A little bit of help? What kind of help?” Louis questions, he doesn’t need help. He just hates English, he’s not dumb. 

“A tutor.”

—

“I don’t need a tutor,” Louis protests, as he slams his head on the kitchen table with a groan. 

“Obviously I and Mrs. Johnson beg to differ, Louis,” His mother, Jay, snaps, “you can’t honestly think, that you can fail English, and just expect me to let you. You’re getting a tutor and that’s that, no arguments.”

“But mum,” he childishly moans, lifting his head from the table and folding his arms over his chest, pout on his lips. 

“No buts, Louis. I’m not changing my mind. A tutor has already been organized, he’s coming over tomorrow at midday. You will be up and ready by the time he gets here, and you will cooperate. Do you understand me, young man?” She demands. 

Louis just slams his back onto the dinner table, groaning out a “yes mum.”

“Good, now finish your dinner.”

—

Louis wakes up at 10am on Saturday morning, eats breakfast, plays some video games and dreads the moment his tutor gets here. What if he’s old? Louis doesn’t exactly hate old people, but with his over the top personality, he finds them boring, and they find him a nuisance. Sighing, he grabs his mobile phone and jumps onto his bed, scrolling through his texts with a bored expression. He laughs at one his friend, Zayn, sent him, something about getting caught trying a cigarette by his parents. He texts back a ‘ur such a rebel, u dickhead’. And throws his phone next to him.