Larry Stylinson One Shots

Title

Student Teacher…

Word Count: 8683

A/N: Not what you think it is, though very similar(;  Urm. Has a long beginning only because I was bored but enjoy anyways!(:   Danielle is in this because I started writing it way back when they were together still (WOW. How long it’s been since then still amazes me) I miss her so I decided to not change it.

WARNING! MAY CONTAIN BOYXBOY SMUT! IF YOU DON’T LIKE THAT THEN I WOULD ADVISE YOU TO LEAVE. THANK YOU!    Now… on with the Larry ship.

He’s only been working there for a year now. And Harry loves it. Loves teaching the ten and eleven years. Shakespeare may not be his favourite subject to teach but it’s worth it because of the kids. Waking up every morning, drinking tea on his way to the school, drinking tea while he teaches. His classroom is small, carpeted, with a couch and lazyboy chairs and beanbags, smelling of Cheshire tea, always warm and cosy. And it’s it’s own building, really, a small, one room building with big windows and double doors. Harry considers it his second home; not caring to wear shoes, just cosy socks and wrapped up in his favourite sweater with his crazy chocolate curls cascaded everywhere, lying out on the floor with his students while they read and discuss Shakespeare. They sometimes dress in costumes, act out different scenes from one of his plays just for fun. Sometimes Harry will, when the sun is actually shining, take his students for a walk around the large campus, to sit out in the football field and just talk.

Yeah, it’s only been a year but Harry loves it sooo much. Remembers how school was boring for him, how the teachers were dull and there was no life and no colour and it was all just boring and dull. And that’s why he became a teacher himself. To give his students something to look forward to everyday. He’s always so kind and caring and will sometimes bring homemade muffins for them. If they just want to talk, they’ll just talk and Harry will sit and listen, no matter what it is they talk about. He can relate with them, considering he’s only 22 and still considers himself a young adult.

There are days, only a couple, when he’d let his kids nap, like during finals week or just because. His students, all twelve of them, always show up in a bright, happy mood, just ready to relax and not have to take notes, for an hour and a half before they have to go to work or to their next class. The few times one of them would show up silent, not wanting to talk or do anything, or if they were in a pissed off mood, Harry would make ALL of them sit in a circle and just talk. And eventually, they would open up and tell him what was wrong and he would sit and listen and hug them if they needed a hug or if they cried and he’d tell them it will be okay, give them his opinion and advice, if he had any to give.

He loves his class, his students, loves reading with them, acting with them, talking, all of it. Harry hates the end of the year though. Five of his students are graduating, will be going to a different school for a higher education or will be getting a job, and of course he wishes them his best, but he’ll miss them. And he’s worried about the few new kids he’ll be getting the next year. He doesn’t know if they’ll open up as easily as the others, if they’ll love this class just as much. He also hates the need of the year because it’s the end of the year. He’ll have to find a different job for two whole months, won’t be able to step a foot into his classroom. For the ENTIRE two months.

He’ll have to stay home, alone, in his one bedroom studio/apartment/flat thing (whatever it’s called). It’s semi-okay, he guesses, because a new café just open downstairs and that means he can get a job there. Selling  pastries and coffee and tea, helping make the coffee and tea and pastries. It’s not bad there; small, warm, carpeted, random chairs all spread about, artwork all over, lights just barely illuminating the place.