Bound by Pages | larry

twenty-five

Harry was in English class when the very angry looking boy stormed into the room. He and Louis hadn't been working. They were just joking around and tickling each other's thighs as they fought, trying not to burst out laughing. 

They were working on an in-class assignment that Mr Wikards assigned. He had to deal with some personal matters outside of school, so the teacher wasn't at school. Instead, they were stuck with a new, young substitute teacher who just looked at her phone and left for twenty minutes at a time. 

She muttered something about getting coffee ten minutes ago and hadn't come back since. That's when the door opened abruptly. Harry was expecting the substitute teacher, balancing her coffee and books in one hand while trying to open the heavy door. 

Instead, it was a rather buff guy. Some could describe him as attractive. Maybe Harry would too... if his face wasn't bright red and his mouth seemed to be positioned in a permanent scowl. He looked around the room, breathing heavily, looking like he was ready to rip off whatever heads got in his way. 

The guy (Harry was going to call him the 'guy' because he didn't look like a man, but he definitely didn't look like a teen either) locked eye contact with Harry before taking an angry sigh and slowly focusing his eyes into a glare. 

Harry looked around him nervously, trying to see if anybody else noticed him. A few other students had noticed the guy, but they definitely didn't seem as concerned as Harry felt. He looked over at Louis beside him, but the smaller boy was writing happily in his little notebook, earbuds plugged in. He seemed oblivious to the world. 

Harry looked back at the guy, who was slowly approaching the clump of desks that Harry and Louis sat at. He turned back to Louis, elbowing his arm frantically. The smaller boy unplugged his left earbud, letting it rest on his hand as he lifted his elbow and rested it on the table. He rested his forehead on that same hand and he looked over to raise his eyebrow at Harry. 

Harry raised his thumb, quickly motioning back toward the guy who was still making his way over to them.

Louis glanced backwards but quickly turned back around. He quietly started mumbling a few words to Harry, "Don't say anything, just pretend he isn't there."

He had a million questions running through his head but asked none of them. He knew the guy was close enough now that he would hear anything Harry wanted to say. Still, this didn't stop Harry from wondering. Who was this guy? Obviously, Louis knew him from somewhere. Why was he here? What did he want? He obviously didn't go to this school. How did he even get in?

Harry's thoughts got interrupted by the sound of a chair being pulled out. The guy had taken the chair from the empty row of desks in front of him and pulled it to the other side of the desk so that he would be facing Harry and Louis. 

"I hope you fellas don't mind if I sit here," He smiled through his angry face. Something in his accent was foreign, but Harry couldn't quite place it. It was almost American, but with a slight twinge when he pronounced some of his consonants. 

He was about to say something, but quickly remembered Louis' words. Speaking of the boy, Harry turned to look at him. He was just continuing to write in his notebook but had turned the music in his headphones up so high that Harry could hear every word. He didn't know how that didn't hurt his ears. 

He looked back up at the guy, who wasn't paying attention at all. He had fair skin that easily turned red, hence why he currently looked like a sunburnt tomato. His dirty blond hair swooped across the top of his head, a generic haircut. He had quite a large frame, but not to the point where it was ridiculous. His blue eyes were staring at Louis and had been since he sat down. Harry couldn't deny that his eyes were nice, but they didn't feel like Louis'. They didn't feel like home.