One Direction Teacher Imagines

Harry Part 7

Spring break hadn't been the most enjoyable, considering I spent the entire time mentally banging my head against the wall. Well, usually mentally. Half that, half dreading the return to school. I wasn't ready to face the humiliation of seeing him.

But now the dreaded class had arrived. I was already five minutes late, considering I walked as slow as possible on the way here. Then I stood outside the door for about 45 seconds. Realizing I was being both childish and wimpy, I decided to open the door.

The first thing I saw was Ms. Gerard glaring at me for being late, then all the students turning in their seats to look at me, and finally him. Well, not his eyes, since they refused to meet mine. He appeared to be extremely interested in whatever paper he was examining.

"You're late (Y/N). I do hope you have a good reason?" Ms. Gerard questioned. I swallowed.

"I uh, I got lost." There are a few snickers throughout the room at my dumb answer. Ms. Gerard just rolled her eyes.

"This far into the school year? Detention after school. You don't mind staying after  to supervise, do you Mr. Styles?" His head shot up in alarm. His eyes flitted to me for a fraction of a second before returning to Ms. Gerard.

"I... Of course not," he answered hesitantly. "Please take a seat, (Y/N)." I kept my eyes on the ground as I took a seat at the nearest desk. "So back to the lesson..." For some odd reason, I found it a bit difficult to focus on the lesson. Every time I tried to watch him teach something would remind me of what happened in the supply closet and I would quickly go back to doodling.

He was in a long sleeve black shirt, which made me think of the tattoos that ran down his arm. I began to wonder if any other students had ever seen them, and found myself hoping they hadn't, that I was the only one. Another mental head bang.

"Class dismissed," Ms. Gerard finally announced, grabbing her coat and heading towards the door for lunch break. Part of me wanted to sprint to the door and haul ass, that being the logical part of me. The delusional teenage girl part of me wanted to talk to him. I knew it had to he discussed sooner or later. Wasn't sooner better than later?

He went into the small teachers closet and began looking through things as other students began to leave. I mean, after what happened, I shouldn't feel less close to him right? If anything I assume I have even more of a right to be here. I wait until the last person has left the room before speaking.

"Hi." He spun around and quickly, then stared at me, caught off guard. He quickly collected himself, standing up straight and plastering a calm look on his face.

"Hello (Y/N,)" he greeted in an extremely weird and strained voice. I tred not to smile adorable uncomfortable look on his face.

Oh my god (Y/N) you need to stop thinking about how cute he is.

I tried to think of something to say, some reason to stay.

"I was wondering if you needed any help today." His expression was hard to read, and it bothered me. He stared for a few seconds before moving to sit down at his desk.

"Um, no thank you. I've got everything handled." I see the pile of papers on his desk that I know he would have gladly let me help with before. I tred not to let the hurt show on my face.

"You sure?" I asked nervously.

"Yes, (Y/N),  I said I've got it handled," he snapped. I flinched, biting the inside of my lip. I’d never seen this side of him.

"Harry y--" I begin, not really considering the fact that using his first name might not be so good of an idea under the current circumstances.

"Mr. Styles. You are to call me Mr. Styles. It is completely inappropriate to call a teacher by their first name. You should know this." I think he is trying to sound threatening, but really he's just making me frustrated. He did kiss me back after all. He owes it to me to at least discuss it.