The Assistant Headmaster (Mystrade Fanfic)

Twenty Seven

A/N: Sorry it took me a millennium to finish writing this. I had lots of homework to do, but thankfully it's now the holidays for me and I think I'm almost getting my life sorted. Woo-hoo! Though needless to say, that'll probably go downhill for me. But yes, sorry again, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!!

-CH

Greg

I got up early the next morning and quickly got dressed and ready for my lessons for that day. Anderson was still asleep in his bed, and I doubted if anyone else would be awake either. But something inside me told me that Mr. Holmes would already be in his office, working on something -or-other. 

I made sure I'd combed my hair nicely, and put on perhaps too much cologne. There was enough on me to make Anderson cough in his sleep. I used my phone light to navigate my way out of the room again, and quickly headed out into the cold hall. 

I quietly walked along the corridor, thinking about what I was going to say. Mr. Holmes cared. I knew that. He'd made it clear enough, especially with that poem by Emily Dickinson. I took a shaky breath. I was a fool.

I walked out of the dorm and into the cold early morning. The stars still shone above, and my breath came out in white wisps against the air. It was silent all around me, and I basked in it for a moment. Everything was still, and fine, and I knew everything would be alright. 

I went into the other building and walked up the stairs. It was strange, walking along the deserted halls. No one else was around. It lost its safe feeling, and seemed eerie, like something would grab my foot at any moment. Finally, I came to Mr. Holmes' office, and I was safe once more.

I knocked on the door, and was met by a tired "Come in."

I slowly opened the door and peeked my head around the corner. "Can I come in?" I asked. 

Mr. Holmes stood up. "Greg," he said, almost disbelieving. 

My heart raced in my chest. His hair was a tousled mess around his head and his face was unshaven. I guessed he was probably going to freshen up closer to work hours. The ever-frequent thought traveled through my mind: I love you so much. 

I closed the door behind myself and stepped in further. "It was the coach, wasn't it? The one who Jenny cheated on me with. It was my coach."

"Greg, I-"

"No, it's fine," I added quickly. "I understand why you didn't tell me. I don't think I can look at him the same way now. And I deserve the title of rugby captain. I worked so hard for that, and you just helped me get there..." I paused for a moment, wondering whether I should ask or not. 'Screw it,' I thought to myself. "How'd you do it? How'd you know?"

"I read the signs. They were easily readable. I told him I would have him fired, I'd tell everyone about his affair with a student if he didn't give you the rugby captain position."

"That's funny coming from you," I couldn't help but grin. 

"Yes, you're right there." 

There was a pause for a moment, and I guess neither of us knew what to say. 

"I'm sorry for being a brat the other day," I said finally.

Mr. Holmes shrugged. "S'okay. I understand why you did it. I mean, I understand it now."

Another pause, and then I asked: "Can I kiss you?"

"I was beginning to think you'd never ask," Mr. Holmes said, coming across his desk to embrace me. His lips met mine immediately, and I kissed him hungrily. His lips were sweeter and softer than ever, and his tight grip around my body told me he'd missed me as much as I missed him. My hands traveled up his sides as his rested on my waist, holding me as close to him as possible.