Sonata (Harry Styles FanFiction)

2. Yes Sir.

A/N: Edit and song for the chapter in the side bar (Media Tab for Mobile)

Darien Grace

Try not to lay him across his desk, Jas's warning from this morning was blaring from a bullhorn angled directly at the heat pooling between my legs. Every inch of my body was a live wire. I couldn't even focus on what he was saying- the rich tones of his voice washing over me, stealing my cognitive abilities. Ludwig had nothing on dear Mr. Styles. Holy fuck. Mr. Styles. A tidal wave of heat washed through me as suddenly every cliché naughty school girl fantasy flooded my mind.

"This course will not be run how it has been in the past. This will not be a 'blow off class' or an 'easy elective'. I don't care if you stumbled in at five in the fucking morning, you will not come in here and catch up on your beauty sleep," I heard a few of the more prudish girls in the front rows gasp at his obscenity. He paused, glorious, shadowed forest eyes trained on the group of steroid enhanced Sigma Phi meatheads two rows ahead of me.

"This is an advanced writing course focusing in on your personal style and applying it to the contemporary world. You will have weekly assignments and a major journal due at the end of the semester. I expect you to show me the respect that you would to any of your other professors and I will strive to do the same." I couldn't stop the amused snort that slipped out, beryl eyes immediately zeroing in on my slumped position in the back. Oh shit.

"Something amusing you, Miss..." he took a moment to scan the class roster, "Grace? Perhaps you'd like to share it with the class." A delicious shiver ran down my spine. Miss Grace, there was something extremely erotic about the formality. I couldn't look away from the wicked curve of his lips urging me to play my cards right.

"Respect is earned, it is not given, Professor."

"I could not agree more," he turned away, effectively dismissing me, but I was no where near finished. Verbally sparring with his pompous ass was the most action I'd seen in nearly two months. We would be finished when I said we were.

"Then you will also admit that it is completely off base for you to expect our automatic respect without any frame of reference."

"Your 'frame of reference' can be found in the title of 'Professor', Miss Grace. Do you show this level of outright insolence with your other instructors?"

"Yes and no. Would you like for me to explain?" I mocked, putting on my most ridiculous British accent. His eyes narrowed immediately but there was a slight twitch at the right corner of his mouth that gave away his own amusement.

"If you would be so kind."

"All of the other uptight, new-age, or lost in the times professors that the University has employed cannot do a goddamn thing to keep my attention. I know that it is my civic duty to keep their lives interesting and make them worth living. They've done their time and they've learned to ignore my antics. You, however, you're bright and shiny and new- a new toy, actually. You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into and your misled sense of entitlement is undeniably attractive. Since the moment you set foot in the room, all I've been able to think about is how goddamn fuckable you would look with my legs around your neck and that, my darling, has made the bucket list." I grinned triumphantly as his eyes flew open before narrowing to slits, the ghost of a smile that I'd seen before gone without a trace. A slow scarlet flush was creeping it's way up his neck and across his cheeks. Previously teasing eyes hardened as unabashed furry blazed in their depths. The hall erupted in a chorus of hoots and catcalls coupled with outraged gasps. My subconscious had fallen on the ground and was laughing her ass off. Well now, that should get his attention, first impressions and all.