Consequences of Flirting (Teacher x Student)

Chapter 7 - Believe Me I'm Fine

"But believe me I'm fine
But I'm lying,
I'm so very far from fine"

- Fall Away
Twenty One Pilots

I wasn't ready.

I knew I wasn't ready.

Why was I forcing myself to be ready?

I stared at Sherlock's classroom door, willing myself to open it. I had a while before the school day began, surely I could take my time. I didn't necessarily have to do it today, did I? I didn't have to rush.

Nope, it had to be now. I wouldn't talk myself out of it.

Without waiting any longer, I pushed open the door, my heart rate increasing with the movement. And there he was, just as predicted. He stood there, sleepily writing on the board. Other than his eyes widening slightly, he acted as through he had expected me.

I didn't want to do this.

My stomach tied itself in a knot - the kind you'd get a scout badge for. I masked the tightness in my chest with what I hoped was a convincing smile. I desperately tried to summon back bad ass Jim. Where was he when I needed him?

I needed to do this. Sherlock had endured weeks of simple hand holding and I could tell he was getting bored. He wanted a proper relationship, he didn't want to have to wait on a selfish brat like me. He wanted more. I wasn't ready for more.

I had to do this for him.

"Hey Sherly," I chirped, practically skipping towards him. I hated this already.

He put his pen down and outstretched his arm, his hand free for me to take. I was supposed to take it. That's what usually happened - this is how we usually greeted each other.

Instead, once I reached him, I took both of his hands in mine and wrapped his arms around me softly. He made no attempt of moving away when I let go, which I supposed was a good sign. Initially, it felt kind of odd. I hadn't been this close to anyone in a while. His arms were safe, I had to keep reminding myself that.

Placing my hands on his shoulders lightly, I subtly tried to focus on my breathing. I loved being so close to Sherlock, of course I did. I just wasn't sure I was ready.

Sherlock looked down at me skeptically, "Why are you so happy?"

"Would you prefer for me to be miserable again?"

"No! T-that's not what I..." He sighed, "What are you doing, Jim?"

I feigned innocence, refusing to give up easily, "What do you mean?"

He rolled his eyes and, for a moment, I was worried that I'd irritated him. Didn't he want this? Had I read him all wrong?

"You know exactly what I mean," Sherlock said, "Why the sudden change in character?"

I shrugged.

"I'm better?" I suggested.

"Jim..." He sighed.

I had irritated him then. That's what that meant, right? Surely that was the only explanation for his behaviour.

"I miss being close to you!" I admitted. It wasn't a complete lie. I missed his arms being around me. I missed his lips being on mine. As much as I dreaded those moments, part of me longed for them.

Sherlock was silent for a while and I started to panic.

Still remaining quiet, Sherlock leant down and pressed a small kiss to my forehead. I closed my eyes and focused on the spot his lips had touched. It felt as though it was tingling.