Foolproof [ON HOLD]

Chapter 3- I'll crawl and beg

By the looks of it, well, at least according to Mr Johnson, detention was a place where you had to repent for your sins and crawl and beg for forgiveness.

I should have done that. Crawl and beg, that is.

It started out simple enough. I manage to ditch Zayn and Liam, who were busy groping each other in the nearly empty hallway, to sit through an hour of pure, unadulterated torture. 

“Mr Tomlinson,” Mr Johnson drawled, his face looking extremely like a smug cat. I smile sickly sweet at him, manoeuvering my way through the haphazardly placed desks, and the people placed haphazardly on them. You see, detention was the only class where everyone actually turned up, and it was also the best place to catch up with people you hadn’t seen in a while.

I sit down towards the very back, shielded from Mr Johnson’s eyes. I looked around seeing a lot of familiar faces and some downright unfamiliar ones. Are these people actually studying here?

I nod to Tessa, who has a splash of red paint on one side of her face, and a riot of colours all over her clothes and hair. There was Jimmy who was shooting spit balls at some poor bloke in front of him, Ryan from the football team was there along with the rest of his 'crew' as he called them. I quickly looked away from them because the last thing I wanted was to listen to Ryan’s supposedly smart-ass comments about what exactly gay guys should be doing. Interactions between me and Ryan ended up with two of us sporting bruises, and colourful words spewed in abandon.

He was a jerk, period.

I was looking forward to maybe sleeping in the hour but a stack of papers were being placed on my desk and Mr Johnson was smiling down at me.

“I was hoping you could help me, Mr Tomlinson”. No shit. It’s not like I have a choice.

“I’ve prepared some rough drafts of essays I would like to circulate in class. Its scribbles and notes scrawled here and there, and I am swamped with marking the tests. So you could just write these down neatly, spend your time more productively perhaps?”

I’m not a violent person. I’m not a violent person. I am not a violent person.

“Of course Mr Johnson, I’d love too.”

“Well then, I leave you to it. Oh and Mr Tomlinson? I’d like it done by the end of detention.”

I’m still not a violent person. I’m still not a violent person.

“Yes sir,” I nod and get to work, shifting through the papers. There were a zillion papers in the pile, all filled with tiny writing. He did this on purpose, he had to have known. So, I set to work, simply copying all the scrawling onto another sheet, just that this time I scrawled it neatly. It kept me occupied, so much so that I didn’t see the seat next to me being occupied.

“Louis.”

Raging fires, screams and a city goes down in flames .Buildings falling, giant waves crashing, people dying. The world is ending. Oh wait, it’s just Harry.

Harry.

Who is talking to me.

Me.

Okay, then.

“Hey, Harry.” There you go, cool, calm and casual. He can’t tell that I just died a million times inside. I don’t even think I can keep looking at him for long. He’s so fucking beautiful, with his wild hair and those green, green eyes and that mouth of his. He’s downright smirking at me, this lopsided grin that says ‘I know what I do to you’.

The bastard.

I turn back to my work; essays never looked so interesting. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Harry looking at me, and I can feel my skin burning up, even though it’s just a few feet between us. This was supposed to be detention. This was supposed to be me getting bored out of my mind, this was supposed to me just … being in detention. Not trying to not hyperventilate in front of a certain someone.

“You’re gonna ignore me Lou?” Harry’s voice is silky, dangerous and I freeze, the pen scratching a line down the length of the paper. He called me Lou. Now I have to hyperventilate, or maybe run screaming from the class.

“I’m not ignoring you,” I say, trying to appear unaffected. Appear being the operative word. I am not going to let him to just see how I sort of, melt when he smiles that dimpled smile. Oh yes, Harry Styles has dimples and they will be the death of me. Or the way how my hand just itches to run over those arms of his...

Back to the real world please.

“But I think you are-” Harry’s cut off by Ryan’s obnoxiously loud voice calling out, “Lewis found a new boyfriend, eh?”

There we go again…

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Well hello! It’s been long, and the chapter ends like a cliff hanger... (Does it?) I will try to put up the next part as soon as possible. Vote, comment and all that jazz!! :)