Teaching Harry... | Harry Styles | AU|

Chapter 12

"Harry..." Ms Dawson spoke before the rest of her words seemed to die in her mouth.

What on earth could she say in response to that?

A silence suddenly enveloped the entire room as Harriet stared intensely at Harry, who simply continued to sit anxiously across from her, his knee bouncing so much it was was practically vibrating. One of his hands nervously rubbing at the fingers on the other, fiddling with his knuckles as the quiet continued to consume them.

But as Harry waited for Ms Dawson's next move, he did everything in his power to try and control his wondering gaze.

Using all the willpower he could muster inside of him to not let his eyes linger over her full chest, even though he knew her nipples were hard and poking through the thin fabric of her top.

His stare forcing itself to not drag down her thick naked thighs, even though he knew how creamy her skin looked, and how much he wanted to smooth his hands over them.

And he especially tried to not look at her lips.

Her beautiful,

Thick,

Sweetheart-lips.

The colour of them matching the shade of rose petals in the first bloom of spring.

Harry could still remember how her mouth felt.
He could still feel her soft lips against his own.

The entire memory of that day in her classroom so vivid in his mind.

And the way Ms Dawson was looking at him now was making an uncontrollable heat stir inside of him. His body so eager even though nothing was even happening, his cock already growing hard.

Clearing his throat Harry tried to casually place his hands over his crotch, hiding his obvious arousal from Harriet, his cheeks burning a little at his internal embarrassment.

"Harry," Harriet began again, eyeing Harry up and down as he seemed to awkwardly adjust himself in his seat. "I invited you here," she hesitated a little, "because I don't think you're quite getting how wrong all of this is."

"I know how wrong it is." Harry told her, matter-of-factly, pursing his curvy lips a little sternly.

He hated it when she spoke to him like he was a child.

Like he wasn't aware or in control of himself.

Even though he had proved many times before that he actually wasn't.

"It's not just wrong—it's illegal." Harriet emphasized.

"I know that." Harry said, his jaw clenching a little. "I'm extremely aware of that, Ms Dawson."

"Well you could have fooled me, Harry. Especially considering you messaged me when I specifically asked you not to." Harriet found herself snapping, her annoyance and anger making her stand up abruptly from the couch as she glared down at him.

Harry was slightly taken back. His body visibly cowering as he kept his puppy dog eyes fixed on Ms Dawson. Her outburst making her chest rise and fall as she panted a little, her blood pressure suddenly rising. Her pale skin flushing a darker red as she turned away from Harry and slowly assumed her originally position of sitting down in the couch opposite him. A sigh escaping her when she ran a hand through her hair, calming her anxiety as she blinked slowly.

"Look, I really am sorry." Harry murmured after a few moments, "I'm very much aware that I haven't been acting very... sensible, lately." His soft gaze now looking down at the floor. "I just can't stop thinking about you," he paused with a slightly frustrated exhale, his tongue peeking out in order to wet his lips. "I've never been so attracted to someone like this before."