A/N- I love you I love you I love you, I love you! Thanks everyone so much for reading!I n case you missed the point, I love you!
-CHxx
Greg.
I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock. My bastard of a roommate, Philip Anderson, wasn't in his bed and nor was he in the bathroom. I picked that he didn't even come back from Sally Donovan's dorm-room the night before. I screwed up my nose at the thought.
Despite my feelings of irritation towards my roommate and his obnoxious girlfriend, I was grateful to have the room to myself, and had an extra long shower. I stood under the hot water and allowed the water to cascade down my toned back.
People had already begun talking about the new teacher at school, the one who had helped me up when I had quite literally ran into him the day before. Actually, he wasn't even a teacher. He was the assistant headmaster. Which meant he'd be spending a lot of time at the school. Mr. Holmes, they said was his name. All the girls were going crazy over him, talking about the bloke nonstop. Some even went out of their way to try find him just to stare. I could already see the scrawls on their books - 'Lana 4 Mr. Holmes' and the like.
It annoyed me, all the attention that Mr. Holmes was getting. 'Why is it annoying you, though?' I asked myself. 'Really, why? You know the feeling all to well, Greg, but never like this... No, I'm not... It's just...' the internal conflict seemed to be never ending.
After switching off the shower, I got out and put on my P.E kit. Just because I wasn't rugby captain didn't mean I'd stop playing the sport.
I went down to the gymnasium and saw some of the boys already out there running laps around the field. The coach looked at me sympathetically, and I forced a smile onto my face.
I began running the field slowly, taking time to appreciate the scene. I loved training early in the morning. I loved seeing the still-darkness settled over the school, quiet and peaceful and snug with an overlying fog that covered the field and surrounding trees. It was really rather beautiful.
Eventually I picked up speed, overlapping all the other guys as they ran. I felt the piercing morning air bite my skin and sift through my hair. My legs didn't even seem to touch the ground, and I loved it. I was caught in my own world, away from my girlfriend and my studies and even Mr. Holmes. That was until I saw said man walking past the gym, brief case in hand. His hair wasn't slicked back this time, his hair coming down to his chin, and I could see its waviness despite its length. I continued to watch him as I ran, picking up the speed a bit more. He walked with such an elegance and importance that it was hard to look away. The conflicts came back. I couldn't possibly like him, could I? Definitely not. But I saw him tilt his head and look in my direction. From where I was, I couldn't see if he was even looking at me. Regardless, I grinned at him. He faced forward again, towards his destination, and I could just see the slight stretch of his cheeks. I realised simultaneously that Mr. Holmes was smiling, and my conflicts had shut up.
_____________________
The day was just like any other until the school assembly. I piled in with Mike Stamford, Molly Hooper, Sally, Anderson, and my girlfriend Jenny.
I started listening in to Sally and Jenny's conversation as I heard them mention Mr. Holmes name.
"My big sister dated him once, I think," Sally was saying. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Sally was a compulsive liar, so I wasn't quick to believe her.
"Really?!" Jenny exclaimed. This time I did roll my eyes.
"Yep," Sally said, popping the 'p'. "Said he's a real player."
"I doubt that," Molly said in her timid voice. "He hardly seems like that sort of person."
"And you'd know, would you?" Sally shot at her.
"Hey!" I interjected, jumping to Molly's defence as she sat there wide eyed and taken aback. "Tone it down, 'lright? The assembly's starting now, anyway."
"What are we even doing here?" Jenny whispered to me as we stood to welcome the guests which included Mr. Holmes. "We never come to these. Wouldn't you rather go back to your room and fool around like we usually do?"
"No, now shush."
She huffed and gave me an annoyed look but I blew it off. It wasn't like she wasn't getting any. I knew she was cheating on me anyway.
We sat back down once all the guests came in, and everyone seemed to be staring at Mr. Holmes. Not that I could blame them. He wore a pale green shirt that hugged his muscles and his trousers defined his arse nicely as he had come in.
"Hello, students and guests of Baskerville Boarding School..." the headmaster droned. And so it began.
The whole experience was traumatic and seemingly pointless as we approached the forty-five minute mark. Mr. Holmes still hadn't spoken, and I wasn't sure if I'd hear his posh voice again. And then the headmaster got up once more.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Baskerville's new assistant headmaster, Mr. Holmes."
Everyone clapped as Mr. Holmes stood up and stepped up to the podium. He smiled down at the audience, though somewhat annoyed, it seemed, and waited for everyone to quieten down. "Thank you all for the warm welcome," he began. "As you've been informed, I am Mr. Holmes, and I have the... Pleasure of being your new assistant headmaster. Before you ask, I am twenty-three years of age. I feel this will be more of an advantage as opposed to a disadvantage, as I wish to speak for you, the students, and offer you a lot more fun and exciting activities. Because God knows you need some," he added the last part under his breath.
Everyone heard and laughed. Mr. Holmes made no move to apologise for his obvious remark and that made me snicker.
"I will be working closely with the sports captains this year, working to make our teams even better than they are. I hope to make these years at Baskerville," his gaze caught mine and he stared at me evenly, "Some of the best of your lives."
YOU ARE READING
The Assistant Headmaster (Mystrade Fanfic)
Fanfiction"I'm willing to take the risk," Gregory said, sliding his hands up to my shoulders. "The question is," he lowered his voice, "Are you?"