➳ claude // l.s.

XVIII

    Then, he hesitantly turned on the other side, careful eyes trying to decipher what the other person wrote, and they noticed too. But unlike the other one, they removed their hand and slid the paper closer to Harry allowing him to see, to which Harry muttered a quiet ' thank you '.

    Soon, forty minutes have passed and the teacher asked for everyone's papers. And, Harry hasn't finished yet, hand moving and  writing at a supernatural speed, at this point his writing being almost indecipherable. But he didn't care as long as he finished.

    A shadow suddenly rested on his paper, followed by a stretched hand that was waiting for the paper. Harry took a short glance, before returning his gaze to the paper and continuing to write.

    " If you don't give me the paper now, I will ignore it and mark it with the lowest grade. " the teacher muttered impatiently.

    Harry sighed, abandoning his work and with shaky hands he slid the paper between his fingers, before giving it to his glaring teacher. And Harry glared back, coldness and breeze surfacing his forest. He wasn't scared of some bitchy teacher.

    Only after exiting the class, he realized that his hand was in constant pain, muscles feeling stretched out and contracted from all the pressure he put in them minutes ago.

" Next time you'll be late at my class you'll get detention. " he heard his teacher say as he passed him, a harsh tone present.

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head and went in his quest for his locker.

On the way towards it, he passed by Lizzie, but he pretended not to see her, since he wasn't in the mood for her.

" Harry. " a squeaky voice echoed in his ears, hurting his brain.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. He sing songed in his head, fastening his pace, clutching his books tighter to his chest.

A small noise was heard right under his feet, eyes exasperatedly falling down to search for his pen. He sighed deeply before crouching down to grab it, and when he rose up to his feet, he made the mistake to look in front of him.

It was Lizzie with some unknown girls, looking at him and whispering like twelve years old. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, before shaking his head and turning his back to them.

" See? I told you he's desperate after me. Just look at the way he stared at me. " He heard Lizzie at first, but another voice continued.

" Oh my god! But why don't you go get him? "

And another. " Yeah, you're way more beautiful than that Farren girl. "

Harry felt his blood boil up in his system, nerves exploding from anger, jaw clenching enhancing his sharp jawline. Fucking dumbasses. He wanted to turn around and snap at all of them, but he knew better than that. It's no use trying to talk to stupid people.

Loud giggles were fading more and more as he walked and he let out a breath of relief as he finally arrived at his locker.

    He met up with Farren that day, again with their problematic relationship. The girl suggested they took a break from each other, in hopes that maybe it will be better after it, but Harry quickly rejected the offer. His whole body stiffened, his heart stuck in his throat, threatening to burst out, eyes widened with fear and quick, heavy breaths escaping from his throat and bugged him as he spoke.

    Farren gave him a sympathetic look, big jet black eyes staring right back at him, mouth slightly twisted in an awkward half-smile. But she shook her head and gave in to Harry. She just didn't understand him.