Don't Touch Me // Larry AU

"At Your House; We Kissed"

I looked at Zayn, pure disbelief written on my face. He looked at me with a solemn look on his face before turning away to talk to Louis, who funnily enough was staring at me and went red faced when I looked at him. Great. I have a support team now.

I huffed, rolled my eyes and turned back to Niall who wore a bewildered expression on his Irish face. "What the fuck was that?"

He shrugged. "Maybe he hates Carter more?" Niall offered.

I shook my head truly disbelieving that Zayn hated Carter more than I. "No he definitely hates me more, Niall. I broke his hand."

Niall shrugged again before the bell rang ad we parted for separate classes. I took the long way to English Literature in order to avoid Louis. My prayers were answered when I arrived to the classroom from a route that was Louis-free!

I walked into the classroom and there wasn't very many people there. I chose a seat near the back window and took my phone out.

Over the next five minutes the room filled up with more students arriving and after five minutes the teacher also arrived. She was a small woman of about thirty with a small frame, pixie-like hair and sharp, defined features.

She had a reputation in the school for having no shit, no excuses and no indoor voice in her classroom. Anytime you walked past her room all to be heard was screaming from within the wall, she was constantly shouting.

"Good morning," she almost sang. And now I'm not one to usually judge someone on others opinion but I already knew I hated her. She was clearly fake; no one was this happy in the morning.

"My name is Mrs Milton and I am going to be your teacher for this seamster." She smiled showing ghastly yellowing teeth. "Now I see you've arranged yourselves into seats and that won't do." Oh. "If everyone would just bring their stuff to the front and I'll sit yous in alphabetical order."

Groans from the class were head as everyone moved to the front of the class. I felt like a two year old.

She pointed to seats, starting with the A's and putting them at the front. I wasn't really paying attention until she called "Harry Styles" in a fake stupid voice and pointed to the middle of the back row. I slung my bag over my shoulder and trudged to the seat.

As I was settling down, I heard "Louis Tomlinson" and I froze. FUCK OFF. I hated her.

Whilst still frozen, I could hear Louis make his way beside me and he plopped down into the chair beside me. I wanted to cry. This was so awkward.

I decided to ignore him but Louis wasn't having that. He leaned over and whispered softly, "hey." No, no. We are not doing this, Tomlinson.

"What do you want?" I snapped a little harshly, looking up to Louis for the first time. As I looked into his blue eyes I saw the last of the happiness that filled them a minute ago drain like water drains from a sink, and was replaced by sadness.

"What do you mean "what do I want"? Your house..." Louis sounded so small it almost hurt to look at him.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and gripped the table. "I don't know what you think happened at my house yesterday, but let me clear it up. You dropped off homework and I'm grateful." I said looking at the table. This is right, the voice in my head said. Everything you touch turns bad, you break things, you break people. Your own father couldn't stay with you, don't expect others to. He's playing you. He hates you. "Now we are not friends." I continued even though my eyes slightly started to water. "We don't have to pretend to be. I don't like you and you hate me, so let's not pretend otherwise. If I have to sit with you for a year, I'd rather not be kicked under the table or have you try converse with me to try use something I say against me. Just get through the class and do what we want out-"