And Then There Was You [h.s]

Chapter Twelve

As the days flew by I was convinced that my World War II-inspired ultimatum was the smartest shit I've ever thought of. I could bang and hang with my professor easily without the fear or pressure of talking about something that was beyond the fine line of comfort. But with all good things in the life of Logan Sedona, there was a cataclysmic downfall fast approaching. You know how some people theorize that if the human race died, we would restart our whole evolution again? That's what it felt like being me. Tragedies and destruction followed me everywhere and seemed to ruin me to the point of nonexistence, forcing me to pick myself up and start over again. There was a constant cycle of disappointment that loomed over me. I couldn't tell if this was the universe's sweet torture or if I brought this upon myself. It was probably a mixture of both. I generally had bad luck and the constant urge to be problematic. So really, who else was there to put the blame on but myself?

But things were going fine. For now.

"But, unarguably, the most important aspect of creative nonfiction is being able to tell one's story accurately. Every breath, every step, every heartbreak... Every detail must be accounted for," My incredibly hot British 'professor with benefits' explained in front of the class. He had a habit of walking from corner-to-corner at the front of the lecture hall. He examined every student's expression, making sure they understood him perfectly. I couldn't help but momentarily gush every time his eyes met mine. With each day passing by we'd gotten better at the whole 'eye-sex' thing. Now our gaze came off as strictly professional, even though we'd most definitely be jumping each other's bones after class. My head spun at the idea of having him pin me against his desk roughly as we engaged in the most sinful of things. I knew part of the ultimatum included me behaving in class, but what the hell? I'd been a good girl for weeks per Harry's request. But one thing he should've learned about being with me: Come prepared for the worst or don't bother showing up. I wouldn't be Logan Sedona if I didn't stray away from the rules a bit. Plus, an angry Harry Styles makes the sex even better. I really had nothing to lose. Or so I thought.

"Professor Styles," I raised my hand high, smirking when I noticed how my classmates eagerly turned around to hear what I had to say. Harry's eyes locked with mine, his facial features holding an alarmed expression. "Isn't the name 'creative nonfiction' contradictory? I mean, if everything we write in this class is based off facts and evidence, where does the creativity fit in?"

He didn't appear angered or distraught by my question. In fact, he looked pleased by my enlightenment. I couldn't even be disappointed that my plan failed because his smile was enough to convince me that I had won. I had won him. For whatever fucking reason, this boy was willing to take me under my terms, and he never tried to disregard my requests for privacy when it came to my past. I felt like I owed him. I owed him a brief explanation of my past, but every time I got close to telling him, my heart would pound and the vicious beat would ring through my ears. I hate to admit my own fears, but after all the shit I've been through, my biggest fear was talking about it. The past being brought up was only a reminder that the confused and afraid girl I was before was nothing close to the cold bitch I was now.

"Good question," he grinned, returning to his slow pacing around the front of the room. "I don't necessarily come up with the course names, but I'm assuming you use true events to structure your writing, whilst adding in your own characters and plot creatively,"

"Is that any different from regular fucking nonfiction?"

"Language,"

"I only speak one and that word just happens do be part of it's vocabulary,"

"Anyway, Logan," he rolled his eyes, unappreciative of my sarcastic comment. "That's just the name of the course. Your argument is valid but ineffective from this side of the English Department."

"That's too bad. But your valiant effort is always appreciated, Professor Styles," I smiled, trying to undermine him. It seemed to have somewhat work when I caught his hands twitch at his sides. But the moment was fleeting; next thing I knew he was able to carry on with his boring lecture and I was left with the biggest lady boner I've faced in awhile.

Class ended and Harry was practically shoving people out of his room. He locked the door hastily and met me at his desk, gripping my cheeks and pulling me in for a heavy and forceful kiss. He let go of my lips to say, "Just when I was about to let you off easy for good behavior,"

"And why wouldn't you?" I grinned, "I'm damn near a saint,"

"You used 'damn' and 'saint' in the same sentence, how fucking blasphemous,"

"Harold!" I gasped. "Did you just say 'Fuck'?"

"To be technical, I said 'fucking', not 'fuck',"

"You just said it again!"

"I did, didn't I?" he chuckled, his thumb gently rubbing my chin.

"Can you spell it for me and use it in a sentence?"

"Hm, F-U-C-K and my sentence is 'I'm going to fuck you hard against my desk',"

"We have a winner," I chuckled, letting him pull me into another kiss. He pushed my body onto the desk, lifting my legs and spreading them for his own satisfaction.

********

IM SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS SO SHORT BUT GUYS!!! WE REACHED 1K VIEWS!! IM SO GRATEFUL TO ALL WHO'VE READ MY BOOK AND HAVE STUCK WITH ME THROUGH THIS PAINFULLY LONG PROCESS. Last time I got this many views on one of my books I ended up unpublishing it LMAO so fingers crossed I actually keep this one up. 

Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! this one was a little satirical because the next one gets kind of... emotional to say the least. I'll see you all next week Friday

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