108. High School Sweethearts

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Harry - you waited for him around the wall, tapping pen to notebook, scuffing your shoes for the sound of his. He rounded the concrete cement block and made it to you. “Finally,” you fell into his arms, and hugged his shoulder under a black t-shirt, arms cocooning you. Blocked by his chest, you inhaled the scent of chips from woodwork, tang still resting in the material of his skinny jeans, binder still hung under one hand with fingers curling the clasp. 

"Sorry I’m late," he smirked down to your lips, kissing you, "still good to ditch?"

"With you," you smirked, "hell yeah."

"That’s my girl," he took your hand, and entwined the fingers, smiling at warm skin and your eyes when you walked beside him, impossibly close to the fragility of his muscles. You made it to the field behind your school’s gym. Harry sitting himself on the grass, legs spread for you to fall and lay into them the same way you always did, "let’s never stop doing this, babe, okay?" He trained around to find your eyes, "promise?"

"I promise, Harry," you kissed his pink lips, "always and forever, you and me."

Liam - you jogged up to him, slipping a little on the end of the track. He turned and smiled too wide, scooping you up into his arms, “gotta keep up, babe,” he panted, swinging you around him as he carried you to the finish line. He let you down when your gym teacher made a face, biting his lip out of smiling when you clasped your hands in front of your body. 

"Alright, that’s enough for the day, go back in and get changed," you listened with steady eyes, moving over to the girls before Liam tugged you by your hand back. 

"Just a second, babe," he drummed his hand along your waist, wiping a damp strand of hair from your face, "one thing…" he leant his body down to kiss you gently, holding your chin. 

"Liam, (Y/N)," your gym teacher barked, "did I say kissing time, or did I say go get changed?"

Liam winked, jogging backwards to the guys huddling and holding their shoulders as they walked, “see you on the other side,” he mouthed as he went. 

Louis - ”This is pointless,” he scowled his head down, dropping the pencil so you flushed pink and bent to retrieve it. 

"Lou, come on," you shook his arm, sliding the pencil back to his hand, "you can get this?"

You shuffled your chair closer to his, leant over the same desk in the library, a math book spread open over pages and pages of unequal equations. “Can’t we just…” he shrugged once, smirking, “you know, make out in the historical learning section again?”

"No," you kept yourself from smiling, "we have to do this work, now come on… you’ve got this, Lou."

"I’ve got you,” he pointed out, smiling. He took your cheek with one hand and grazed the skin till the tip of his thumb was tracing your jawline. 

"Pythagoras’ theorem, Lou," you reminded him, dropping his hand and tapping the page, "Pythagoras’ theorem…"

Zayn - you opened the door to the art room slowly, pressing the wood until you could wriggle in past the canvases and  overwhelming smell of varnish. “Zayn? Babe, where are you, I can’t…” you murmured out, pressing past the masks hanging from hooks in the ceiling, “I can’t see…” you tipped aside a few mannequins’s to reach the little desks. You peered down over an intricate drawing of you, last week after school when Zayn had taken your picture. You smiled to yourself, dropping your book bag and shaking your head down, “Zayn, I…”

"Gotcha, babe," you jumped when he slunk arms around your waist from behind, a chaste kiss to your neck before he tore himself back, "you like it?" He smirked down to the drawing. 

"I love it," you wrapped your arms around his waist, "it’s awesome…"

"You are…" he kissed you once, "and you always will be, don’t ever forget it…"

Niall - you turned up the volume a few decibels until you could feel the music in the backs of your eyes, nodding your head as you slunk down in the cafeteria, taking your seat and stabbing your orange juice with the thin plastic straw. “Whoa, what is this…” Niall jogged over, dropping his tray to sit opposite you. 

"What’s what?" You smiled up, tugging your headphones out. 

"Were you about to start eating lunch without me?"

"Maybe," you shrugged, giggling, taking your fork through the pasta in a small bowl before you. 

"Babe," he swivelled around to you, grazing your forehead with his lips before he sat down, "how was Biology anyway?"

"Lame," you poked a stem of pasta with your fork and raised it up for him to eat. 

"That sucks, babe, I’m sorry," he chewed for a minute, "but hey, least your teacher’s leaving in two weeks to have a baby or something, right?"

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