Consequences of Flirting (Teacher x Student)

Chapter 3 - Death of Me

"If you're gonna be the death of me,
that's how I wanna go"

- Collar Full
Panic! At The Disco

Soon enough, I found myself spending every single lunchtime with Sherlock. It sort of became our own personal ritual. I went to his classroom at lunch and he attempted to mark his pupil's work whilst I sat around and distracted him. Not that he ever complained about me being there. If I didn't know better, I'd say he enjoyed my company.

He was like the best friend I'd never had. Well, a best friend that I constantly imagined making out with. Was that normal in friendships? I didn't exactly have any experience in that department.

It was nearing the end of the school term meaning I'd have to endure two weeks with only my mother to keep me company. I say endure because it really would be that painful. There was only so much gardening talk I could suffer. Frankly, I couldn't care less about what types of vegetables grew well this time of year. I couldn't even tell the difference between different types of flowers.

Anyway, today was no exception. I traipsed into Sherlock's room at lunch, smiling inwardly to myself. His classroom was basically my second home. Actually, I'd go as far as saying I preferred it to my real home. Although the cabinets were filled with hazardous chemicals and there were periodic table posters blue tacked onto the otherwise clear, white walls, the room felt more like a secret hangout than a place to learn the fundamentals of science. It was like mine and Sherlock's secret lunchtime hideaway. Like a party only we were invited to. A club with only two members. Our secret den.

God, I really loved lunchtimes.

"Hello sir." I purred, making him turn in his seat to face me.

"Hey." He replied cheerfully, walking over to me with arms wide. I slowed down my walking slightly, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. He wrapped his arms around me, something I hadn't been anticipating, and I froze. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been hugged, let alone by a teacher.

I made sure I didn't appear startled for long, though, as that would ruin bad ass Jim's reputation. I wrapped my arms around his waist cautiously, in fear of him pulling away, and buried my head in his shoulder lightly.

Although it sounds incredibly cliché, his arms made me feel safe. Strong, even. Although oddly, I felt like a child again. I never usually received hugs. Perhaps sometimes I really needed one.

Not that I'd ever admit that, obviously.

Suddenly, Sherlock pulled back, realising where we were, but showed no signs of regretting his actions. There was a somewhat awkward silence as we both tried to comprehend what had just happened. I mean, I know I said we were like best friends, I just didn't realise we were that close.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" I asked, desperately trying to normalise the situation.

Mr Holmes simply ushered me over to his desk, without answering my question. I took my usual seat diagonal from his. Without warning, he reached into a drawer and pulled out two plastic tubs full of, what appeared to be, pasta. After passing one to me, Sherlock opened his own. I chose to copy him.

Everything had suddenly began moving so unexpectedly fast, none of it making any sense. It was as if I had been on a treadmill, gently jogging throughout my life - taking my time and not rushing into things. Then someone (i.e. Sherlock) came along out of the blue and put it on full speed, without informing me, therefore making me fly off backwards, breaking my nose and probably making everyone around me laugh in the process. That's how I felt. I was going to fly off the treadmill because of Sherlock. All because of Sherlock bloody Holmes.

Okay, I'll admit I'm not good at similes.

"Hang on." He muttered, grabbing a Bunsen Burner off the side. After setting it alight, he placed it between us, the flame dancing in the air. Admittedly, it was a nerdy attempt at romance but it practically screamed Sherlock.

Romance? Was that what this was?

I scratched the back of my neck whilst smiling appreciatively, "What's this all for?"

He smirked at me over the fire, "Not entirely sure." He paused, "Do I have to have a reason?"

I shrugged, bitting into a piece of pasta, silently wishing he'd explain.

"I suppose it's a thank you."

I swallowed, "For what?"

"Keeping me company. Making me feel welcome. Generally being great. I don't know..."

Satisfied with the provided answer and blushing slightly due to his comments, I quietly continued to enjoy my lunch.

Sherlock pulled out his phone and checked on something - I wanted to ask what but chose against it. He let out an irritated sigh which only made me more intrigued.

Noticing I was watching him, Sherlock looked at me and shrugged, "The property I was looking at buying has already been sold." This seemed like an odd subject to discuss with a teenager. I mean, it wasn't as if I had any experience in marketing. I didn't know any good locations or houses to buy or...

Wait a second.

"I know a house that's on offer." I suggested. He asked for details and I gave him the address of the house next to mine. My mind immediately started racing. What if Sherlock moved next door to me? A smile edged its way onto my face. Who said the flirting had to end after school? The possibilities were endless. For example, I could 'accidentally' leave the curtains open so he could watch me getting changed.

Why the hell was that the first thing I thought of?

I checked the clock on the wall, determined not to let the bell interrupt something important, as it had done many times before. 5 minutes. What could happen in 5 minutes?

"Have you ever been a relationship, Jim?"

I coughed dramatically, almost choking on a piece of pasta, "What?"

Sherlock repeated his question patiently, "Have you ever been in a relationship?"

I thought momentarily although there was no real point. I already knew the answer. It wasn't exactly as if I had a buzzing social life. I literally had no friends - that's why I spent all my free time with Sherlock. What exactly were the chances of me being in a relationship?

"Um... N-no."

"You haven't been hugged in a while, have you?"

I shrugged sadly, realising that the previous hug had probably been a one off. It was probably just a stupid experiment. It honestly wouldn't surprise me. Stupid science teachers and their stupid experiments.

Assuming my response meant no, Sherlock added, "Thought not. You tensed up, as predicted."

It was an experiment then.

"Or maybe I just wasn't expecting my teacher to hug me." I snapped, angry at myself for being so naive.

Sherlock quickly held his hands up in surrender, "Whoa! Sorry, Jim, I didn't mean to upset you. I just..."

I sighed, immediately calming myself down. I wasn't angry at Sherlock, not really. I believed him when he said that he didn't mean to upset me. That wasn't his intention. He wouldn't do that, would he? Doubt had already implanted itself on my mind. Perhaps I didn't know as much about my teacher as I thought I did.

"It's fine, it's fine." I assured him, "It's just... Who would want to date me? I mean, look at me."

He did. He looked at me very closely, as if he was investigating every inch of my being.

The bell rang and I desperately wanted to ignore it.

"You'd be surprised." Sherlock muttered under his breath and I wasn't sure I was supposed to hear it.