Age is just a number, after all. (Morten Harket x Reader)

Age is just a number, after all. (Chapter 1)

You stared at the clock. The ticking resonated inside your head, making it seem even louder than it already was in the dead silent classroom.

"Anyone? No?", the teacher asked. "Alright then, take notes."

The ticking of the clock was now accompanied by the noises of the chalk scratching on the blackboard. Your class was a hopeless case. Who could blame you, though? Math had become a foreign language at this point. It seemed more distant than ancient Egyptian.

Math class wasn't that far from being like hell. None of your friends shared that class with you so you were stuck in a room with a bunch of strangers, people you didn't like and people that, for some reason, didn't like you.

"Excuse me, I've got a question!", a voice from the back called. You didn't bother to turn around.

"Yes?", the teacher asked.

"Could you please write it down in a language we actually understand?"

Some of the students suppressed a giggle, others chuckled. You however, didn't find it even remotely funny what this student had to say.

You were a generally friendly person. People you didn't really have anything to do with, you left alone. And if there was a situation when you had to talk to them, you were nice and polite. Even if it was someone you didn't really like.

Said student from the back however, was someone who did not give you a chance to stay nice and polite. You tried to avoid him, but he didn't miss an opportunity to pick on you. He imagined himself to be the class clown; however, you'd heard a lot of students talk about him behind his back. They considered him almost just as annoying as you did.

It was the last year of school. Most of you had just turned 19 or 20 even. You told yourself to just breathe it off. Be patient for the rest of the year.

You managed to survive the remaining time of the class and even take notes. You'd look at them later at home, when you had some alone time.

When the bell rang, you quickly gathered your things and put them in your bag. Heading for the door, you hoped you could just get out and-

"Well, (y/n), did you make sure to take notes? I heard you were struggling a little in this class."

And you didn't.

You sighed and turned around.

There he stood, Jakob, his bag shouldered, a wide grin on his face. You couldn't quite sort him in. He wasn't ugly and he wasn't extraordinarily pretty. Something solid in between. However, it was enough to despise it.

"Yes, I did take notes. Thank you for your concern."

He waved off theatrically.

"Oh, that's nothing to thank me for. You know I deeply care for you..."

He stepped closer, giving you a disgusting grin. You knew he did not mean a single word he just said. He was taunting you.

"Yeah... again, thanks. I gotta go now, see you later."

You wanted to go but he cut your way off and stood right in front of you.

"But I was hoping we could talk a little bit."

The teacher and the other students had already left the room. They never really bothered to lock the rooms since there'd be another class after the ten-minute break anyways. The two of you remained alone.

You just looked at him. Non-verbally asking him to continue.

"You see, I think you're very interesting. And I was hoping we could spend a little more time together."