soulmates lovers and other useless human relations

xi

"Michael Robinson. Sit. Down. Right now before I have to call home."

The class fell deadly silent, not being used to the harsh tone being used by the teacher that stood by the front. On the typical day - they were a lighthearted person with a love for teaching and children, the patience they held was beyond admirable and just by the smile that would pull on their lips at the mere sight of one of their students successfully learning something they're teacher - anyone could tell they held more love for their job than words could explain.

The brunette known as Michael frowned, crossing his tan arms over his chest. His arms were covered in freckles which often led to his friends poking fun at him - a feature he once loved about himself was now an insecurity all because of the teasing sayings the boys around him would say.

Seeing his stubbornness, (and not being the first time they had to deal with it.) the teacher sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose. "Okay." They breathed, calming down to speak to the boy normally. "How about this; go sit outside for a second and I'll join you. We can talk and you can take a breather. Sound good?"

'Don't punish childish behavior - teach from it.' That's what the teacher always lived by, believing that outbursts, tantrums, whining and crying were not the child being a brat - but rather what was not taken care of. Parents were often ignorant, neglecting creatures - leaving the job of parenting to the teachers.

The boy said nothing but shuffled out the room, his head down with his eyes glued to the floor.

Seeing him disappear to the hall outside their classroom, y/n turned back to their class. "Alright. Everyone continue with your textbook activities. If you are finished then you can have some quiet free time, but if I hear any loud noises from outside I'll come back in and make you write paragraphs. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes teach!" The class sung. And with a final nod, the adult turned and left the room.

Outside, with his back resting on the white paint coated brick wall, was Michael. From up close he was actually an incredibly adorable boy, with big round cheeks and fuzzy hair styled into a buzz cut. Y/n wasn't one for picking favorites, but they couldn't help but admit that Michael was one of the preferred students.

Had it not been for his habit of disrupting the class on a daily basis.

With the door closing shut behind them, y/n sighed and crossed their arms - nearly mirroring the stance of the boy as they stood in front of him. "What's wrong Michael? What's got you so worked up lately?"

He seemed to have heard them, he kicked his foot into the ground, digging the tip of his shoe into the tile flooring. Still, he didn't reply.

"Do you not understand the work? Am I going too fast? Or maybe I don't explain it too well?" You continued to pester for a reply. Even after trying so hard, he kept his mouth shut with not even a grunt or huff for a reply. "Are you having troubles with friends? Are people causing you trouble?"

As expected, the boy says nothing again, only prompting the teacher to sigh and pinch the bridge of their nose. "Alright, how about this; I won't call your parents, and I won't send you back into my class. Why don't you go into the staff room and do the work on my desk? If anyone asks why you're there just tell them I let you."

At this, he finally reacted - nodding. With a smile you finally walked back into the room, grabbing his work book and utensils before walking out to lead him to your desk. The day, after that, went by smoothly, and you had come to an agreement with the boy to do his work in your area for the rest of the week so he could do his work in peace. You'd visit the boy every thirty minutes or less to see how he was doing and if he needed any assistance before heading back to your own class.

And then the week ended, and he didn't want to return to class. So that week turned into another two weeks, and then a month. Still, despite his lack of interaction between his peers, Michael's grades improved incredulously.

"Look at you Michael." You praised the boy as you graded his recent exam paper. 89/100. One of the highest grades of the class. "You've improved so much. How do you feel?"

"I feel good." He smiled, confident in his abilities now.

The classroom was silent, having all the other students long gone home for the weekend. Michael stayed to hear your feedback on his test, after all; his parents would be working until later, and then off to hang out with friends for the weekend. Ultimately forgetting of him.

He enjoyed your company, you were probably the more supportive, caring person he had in his life. "I bet your parents are going to be real proud." You grinned, signing the sheet.

He grimaced at the though. They probably would had they ever been home in the first place, and as if reading his mind, you looked up and frowned at his expression. Folding your arms over your desk, you rested your elbows on the oak wood. "Michael, is everything okay? Is everything alright at home?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, just a little... quiet, I guess."

"Quiet?"

And that's how Michael had opened up for the first time in his life, disclosing of his home problems and of his feelings. You sat and listened, a frown pulling on your lips with each passing, saddening word that the boy spoke.

Michael Robinson, and Y/N L/N were both a sad, explosive story waiting to happen.