Professor Posh ➳ Teacher x Student/Sherlock x Reader

Pulse And Impulse

Sherlock is gonna be back soon and I have no idea what to do. He is certain that Tom killed someone- when I was the one who did it. He's convinced of the fact that I went undercover to investigate Tom Hiddleston. The angel of the damn school.

Of all people, why did it have to be Tom? He's quite possibly the sweetest man to walk this earth. And now one of the most influential people I know think he's a bloodthirsty killer.

But at the same time...

Is it better for him to think Tom is the killer, instead of finding out that it was actually me? Would I really stoop so low? After hurting so many people already, was I ready to hurt just one more?

This isn't the first time I've done something like this. If Sherlock finds out it was me, he'll never forgive me. He'll think I'm insane.

But what if Tom goes to jail? For something he didn't do? I couldn't live with myself if I let that happen...I have hurt so many people already. He doesn't deserve that. 

I pace around my room with a sudden growing desire to bite all of nails off due to stress. My head aches painfully, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do next. The anxiety builds up more and more inside of me, and I feel it stack up like a weight. 

Suddenly, there's a gentle knock on the door. I sigh and run a hand through my hair as I approach the door, thinking maybe Sherlock had forgotten something on his way out.

But when I open the door, it is a much more horrifying sight. A terrifying and twisted sight that I don't know how to react to at all. 

"Hey...Y/N." Jim pants breathlessly, his hair damp from the rain and his eyes blood-shot red.

I didn't think the day could get any worse, but it just did.

The person who killed my best friends,

The person who started all of this madness in my head,

Is standing right in front of me.

And I can do nothing to him.

This was it. This was the final piece of insanity to the shitty day that would make me snap. I feel my face tighten, my hands ball into fists at my sides, my heart races with anger and hurt and hate and

Regret.

I can't hold anything in any longer. I can't keep it all to myself, or bundle it all up into my heart. It's already reached it's maximum capacity- I'm gonna lose control. Any second now. I'm going to burst and lose it. I'm going to grab him and smash his head into the wall. I'm going to twist his arms back until they snap and slit his stupid throat. I'm going to bathe in his blood while he screams and I am filled with pretty dreams.

I'm going to stand here, and cry. Pathetically. Because that's what I really am. 

That's all I can do as a confused girl, who just wants her friends back from the dead.

I feel my shoulders shudder as my heart drops. My chest tightens. I tilt my head down to stare at the floor that begins to blur from the incoming avalanche of pathetic tears. They gather at my eyes in bundles and flood down my cheeks.

Jim just stands there.

I bring my hands to my face, in a messy attempt to wipe away all of my tears at once. But they just keep falling. I sniff and begin to sob, as the anger I held in my head had so quickly become a suffering sadness that agonized every part of my body. The memories in my mind of my precious friends fill my line of vision as I see their smiles and hear their laughs. I want those days back. I want them back:

"Why?"

It was all I could manage to say. To ask.

Why did he take such beauty away from the world? What did I do wrong? What did I do to hurt him? What did they do wrong? Why did it have to be them? Why couldn't it have just been me?

"What...?" He looks at me perplexed, as I continue to cry "Y/N..." He says, still breathless from running all the way up here to the girls dorm "Y/N, I need your help..."

I suddenly stop crying and snap my head up to look at him. There is a strain of anger at my temples in my head and I feel it take over psychotically:

"Get the fuck away from me." 

I try to close the door but he stops me and narrows his eyes at me with a small smirk at my sudden change in demeanor:

"I'm curious now." 

I feel my face pale as my teeth clench and my breathing becomes erratic:

"Go before I lose my shit and fucking murder you right here."

Jim raises an eyebrow at me and stares at me with slight shock. His playfulness of the entire situation just pissed me off, and his complete and utter ignorance for hurting others completely disgusts me. I feel my heart beat slow down dramatically, as my head pounds faster now with all of the things I wanted to do to him. I feel the tears on my cheeks begin to dry out, as I inhale a sharp breathe stare at his expression.

"And why would you..." He lowers his voice, as his eyes glitter flirtatiously "want to kill me?" 

That's it. He's dead.

Impulsively, I pull him into the room with me and push him onto the floor. I close the door behind me and lock it. My mind is numb, but I feel calm now as I walk to the kitchen without wasting any more time to grab the biggest, baddest knife I can find. I check my reflection in its blade as I make my way back over to him. He stays on the floor, his eyes widening as he sees me approach him slower with the knife. 

I wanted him to run. I wanted him to try and escape. Because I didn't just want to kill him. I wanted to hunt him down like the animal he is, and torture him. He watches me with wide eyes, as he gets up and starts to back away. I waste no more time and step closer to him as he backs into the wall. I press the tip of the knife just under his chin and bite my lip as this has been the moment I was always waiting for. I slide the tip of the blade down the side of his neck and make a little cut. He starts bleeding. But he is quiet and not resisting me at all. I want to take it slow. I want him to feel my pain.

"What's the matter?" I ask mockingly, "Not gonna fight for your life because you finally found out that it's actually worthless?" 

His breathing becomes erratic, as he starts to sweat. I wanted to see fear in his eyes as I gently stabbed the knife into his left arm, but I saw something completely different. I take the knife out of his flesh quickly after stabbing his arm and his body twitches as a result. His lips curl into a little smile, his eyes gazing at me with ecstasy glossed over his pupils:

"How romantic..."

He was blushing. 

Upon seeing his expression and the flush of his cheeks, the bloody knife drops from my hand hits the floor. I realize what I'm doing and stop, but I also realize that he was enjoying whatever the fuck I was about to do. And I don't know what's more confusing and scarier than that. I swallow dryly and stumble backwards, as he smiles at me:

"Come back, baby..."

I turn around and run out of the room as fast as I can.