Consequences of Flirting (Teacher x Student)

Chapter 11 - It's All Fun and Games

"And it's all fun and games,
'til somebody falls in love."

- Carousel
Melanie Martinez

The fact that I hadn't seen Irene all day should have worried me. I mean, it would have if she hadn't been avoiding me all week.

You see, after the initial 24 hours of paranoia, the fear kind of died down after realising that she hadn't, and probably wouldn't, tell anyone. She wasn't that much of a bitch. I was her friend and she seemed to like Sherlock - it wasn't hard considering he was one of the better, more charismatic, and definitely more attractive teachers in the school. Surely she would't be stupid enough to lose both - especially not Sherlock. I'm about 99% sure most of the school, particularly the female population, would riot. And anyway, we were pretty damn cute together if you ignored the legal side of things.

Even if she did happen to tell anyone, what exactly would she say? Mr Holmes and Jim are sleeping together? We can easily deny that, because if by 'sleeping together' she means having sex, we haven't done that...

Yet.

If she doesn't actually mean it like that, though, and she means it literally, then we have done that.

Last weekend, the weekend directly after I told Irene, I found myself back at Sherlock's flat. We sat on the sofa, Sherlock's arm rested on the back of it, my head snuggled into his shoulder. I remember talking. Talking about nothing and everything and anything in-between. Talking about school and 'that one news article I saw online' and under appreciated words such as 'flabbergasted'. Talking about our relationship and how we have to be careful and briefly about how terrified I was that this was going to go wrong - Sherlock reached for my hand after I mentioned that, reassuring me without the use of words.

In a haze of pure comfort and happiness, I fell asleep, a small smile etched onto my tired features. You see, I hadn't been able to sleep after telling Irene due to my anxiety keeping me awake, refusing to let me relax for more than a minute before reminding me of my mistake. It kept me awake as the digits on the clock changed, their red glow burning the back of my eyes. It kept me awake as the darkness seeped into both the corners of my room and the corners of my mind. In short, my mental state was perfectly reflected in the state of my room at night. When the bright, happy exterior the world had somehow managed to fake all day faded, the darkness reigned, and only the few who found themselves copying this behaviour remained awake through the early hours of the morning.

But that day I fell asleep on Sherlock's shoulder and, for a while, until I woke up and the harsh reality dawned on me, I was happy.

So if she meant sleeping like that, then yes, we had slept together.

As for the person she tells, we'll just have to be careful around them to avoid making them suspicious.

We'd just have to be careful.

We could do careful.

We'd be fine.

I walked through the school corridor silently, like I had been doing for the past 10 minutes. I had nothing better to do, Irene was playing hide and seek and Sherlock wasn't in his classroom. And, just like before all of this happened, I was invisible again. I forgot how much I missed the serenity of being alone.

Struggling through the overly crowded corridors, I focused on the floor, therefore avoiding eye contact with everyone. I had figured it out a while ago - if you don't draw attention to yourself, no one will notice you, which was essentially the main goal. It wasn't exactly rocket science, but, at the time, it was exactly what I needed. I didn't want to stand out. I didn't want people to pay attention to me. I wanted to blend in, to become practically invisible.