Consequences of Flirting (Teacher x Student)

Chapter 6 - I Hate my Weaknesses

"I hate my weaknesses,
They make me who I am."

- .joyriding.
Frnkiero andthe Cellabration

"Jim?"

I focused on the floor of Sherlock's classroom as though, if I stared long enough, it would swallow me whole. It sounds cliché, but I really didn't want to be here, so much so that I would rather disappear off the face of the earth than face another day. It's funny how I went from not having a care in the world to not wanting to exist in the course of an hour or so. I knew it would happen. The same thing happened last time. I let someone in, let my guard down and get hurt.

I'm better off on my own.

"Jim?"

Hiding my hands in my sleeves, I hugged my arms to my chest tightly, creating some sort of barrier between me and everyone else.

I don't know why I was letting the Jake situation effect me so much. I'd usually just brush it off, that's what I always did with the things that hurt me. Why was this different?

Maybe it was because it was technically my first sexual experience. If that was what it was always like, I was positive that I never wanted any skin-on-skin touching every again. That rules out any accidental hand brushing, hugs and passionate make out sessions.

Keep my distance.

"Jim?"

I finally looked up at Sherlock, who had been trying to get my attention for the past 10 minutes. His eyes were filled with pity, although he hadn't been told what had happened a few hours prior. You see, the day continued as usual after that. I managed to loiter in the medical room for as long as possible before being forced back to my lessons. The nurse used the excuse that I wasn't actually 'ill'.

Just psychologically damaged, maybe.

Sherlock had made me stay behind after Science because I 'wasn't acting myself'. I mean, it's no wonder. I was too busy preoccupied with self-hated that I didn't pay attention, not that this was particularly new behaviour. I was normally able to disguise it better, though.

"What?" I asked. Except for this mornings encounter, those were the first words I'd said to him.

This mornings encounter...

I had been determined not to let anything ruin my day. I'd failed that. I'd failed everything. I hated myself.

I hate myself.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm fine."

"Jim..." He sighed.

That stirred something inside of me, apparently. "You do know that you're not a fucking councillor, Sir." I snapped.

As I said the last word, he reacted as though I'd just drop-kicked his heart like a football. Was he expecting me to call him Sherlock? Had I just ruined the only good thing left in my life?

He composed himself, "Jim, seriously, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" I argued, clenching my fists tighter.