yungblud imagines || d.h

detention

two days.
two days before you graduate.
two days before you never have to walk these halls again.
two days of seeing him as much as you possibly could.

"y/n," your teacher calls upon you, "oh, hm?" you look to her, absolutely puzzled. "are you with us," she asks; you lie and nod your head.

two days; all you could think about. thirty minutes into the lesson, you see that there's only five minutes left of class before classes switch, and you seriously had to pee. grabbing your stuff, you walk to her desk, "ms. carter," you whisper to her as her eyes peer to you, "may i please go to the bathroom, it's one of those emergencies. i figures i'd bring everything with to go to class after i'm...good," you lie to her so she wouldn't have a choice but to let you go. you waves her hand, signaling permission.

as you're booking it down the hallway to the bathroom, your stopped by one of the top most annoying people you know, the freshman hall monitor. "uhm where is your pass," she asks, even though she's implying a demand, hand out ready to see it; there's a problem. "ms. carter didn't give me one," you tell her. "likely story. it's sad you know. you're only two days from graduating and you'd rather skip class than gather your last bit of education," she says to you as she writes on a slip of paper.

you snatch it from her stupid little clipboard, "you're writing me up for treating an emergency, what the fuck?" she wines for you to give it back to her as she tries to snatch it from your clutches; she fails. "give it back, bitch." uhm, hold the fucking phone. your index finger and thumb team together as they slowly rip the paper from head to toe, and you shred it until there's no slip left. "that's littering too, you're absolutely disgraceful," she snarks at you. you wanted to shut her up; you grab her by her jojo siwa ponytail and throw her into a locker, and of course, she wines some more.

"let me tell you something," "y/n." you're interrupted. you weren't interrupted by just anyone though; it was him. you turned to the direction his voice as he stood there outside the door. his tall stature, dark hair, his pressed clean button down, and dark trousers that sometimes you swore he bought a little tight just to tease the girls with. "my room, now."

"yes, mr. harrison." you walk his way, giving an evil glare to the freshman snickering at you across the hall. "you want to tell me what the hell was going on out there," he asks you. you began explaining yourself, but once you got to the narration of the tussle, he stops you. "i get it. look i was in your shoes five years ago. freshman like that, yes they're annoying, but there's no need for violence. unfortunately it must be dealt with, so this tomorrow evening, i have after school errands that must be taken care of, so you will join me. in here. for three hours of detention," "wait what, no," you interrupted him.

"i understand having detention the day before your graduation, it blows. you should've thought about that. i won't make you write off or whatever. you'll be grading papers with me, separating them into files, reorganizing seating placements for next year, that sort of thing." you were intrigued slightly at the idea of spending three hours alone with him, despite having to keep those thoughts to yourself; he was still your teacher. "and so what if i don't show," you tempt him. he laughs at your remark sarcastically, "well y/n," he places a firm, but gentle hand upon your shoulder, "you won't be graduating."

the bell rings.

"ugh. whatever." you storm out of your english teacher's room. everything about him frustrated you. the way he talked, his posture, his eyes reading you like a book, the fact that someone like him was a teacher. of all things, a fucking teacher. what kind of punishment is that?

later that night, you lay in your bed as you decide to hop on your socials and please your brain. all this time being around him, and you never looked for him on any social media. dumbass. after five minutes of thoroughly searching, you find him on the one and only book of faces. you scroll through his pictures and you are got damned. he smiled more in the classroom than he did on media, but you were not bothered by that one bit.