Frat Boy Harry (slow updates)

0.3

"So you're good at French then?" Harry asks walking straight up to the desk after class, wasting no time. I can feel the stares from all over the room and I can only imagine what they are thinking.

"I don't know, you tell me," I wink at him, letting him know I remember the party-well at least parts of it. But as soon as it came out of my mouth I regret it. I don't want him mistaking it as anything it wasn't.

"Oh yeah, umm by the way I would much appreciate that hoodie back. I suppose you have it?" I look up in confusion because I had totally spaced on taking it with me. I decide to ignore the question completely and go in for the reason he is here-tutoring.

"Do you actually need help? Or are you giving me a hard time? Because if it's the second, you can find someone else to annoy, I don't have the time or energy for that this semester." I stare at him with a stone expression, no emotion in my voice. His smile faded quicker than I would have thought.

"Yes! I do need your help actually. My ability to graduate rides on this class," his face got serious, as he tried to hide it by looking down at his feet. "Wait aren't you younger than me? How are you tutoring for a junior level French class?"

I can't help but smile at that comment. French is an escape, another personality, another side of me that came naturally. "I took college level French in high school, last year I took all 3 sequence classes for junior level. And yes I'm younger than you, but I have the ability and knowledge to tutor yo-" I get cut off as the professor speaks up.

"She is very qualified; I wouldn't worry Monsieur Styles. You are in good hands. I had her as a student last year. She passed with flying colors." I can't help but blush at his comments. He catches my reaction too and smirks.

The nice thing about the French professor is that he was truly a Frenchman, and he is only 5 years older. He's also really easy on the eyes, with a slim, fit build and huge biceps that you can see bulge through his shirt, which got me caught up a lot last year.

His first name is Liam and it is quite nice to say in conversation instead of Monsieur. After last year though, I promised myself that I wouldn't talk to him much outside of class.

"Merci Monsieur," I say tight lipped, I have nothing else to say. I move my attention back to Harry whose face has a weird twinge to it now. His body language has changed, actually his whole presence has. I look at him, making sure he's paying attention "Quand est-ce que vous avez libre? Si vous voudrais l'aide, c'est le chose important."

"First off you can use the tu form with me love...I mean I think we are acquainted enough for that," he raises his eyebrows while he talks to me, but while his eyebrows went up his voice went down. I wanted to laugh but kept that inside and just stared at him instead.

"D'accord. Quand est-ce que tu as libre?" I can't help but emphasize the tu and flash a sarcastic smile when I see his satisfied face. Waiting for his answer, my attention starts to wonder, and apparently my eyes as well.

I heard a loud laugh "Hey love I'm up here." When I realized I was staring at his pants my entire face blushed. Opps. Then I felt another gaze and looked over at Liam. He has a slight look of jealousy in his eyes, but I brush it off. "How about tonight? I'm free tonight."

"Où?" I decided that I am going to talk to him in French as a normal thing since he needs to be tutored anyway. I mean if he needs it, then I want him to have the practice.

"My house. Remember how to get there?" he has a glisten of light in his eyes as he looks down at me with hope.

"Oui. Je serai à 6h30." I gather my things and walk towards the door, nodding goodbye to Monsieur along the way.