Consumed

Chapter 2

~Harry's POV~

"Alright class, settle down its time to take your seats and begin." Of course I have to say this about a million times until they actually shut the hell up and listen. I make my way to the front of my desk, leaning against it and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Welcome to English Composition. Some of you may know me as Mr. Styles, and if you treat me like a human I'll do the same for you. However, I won't deal with ignorant -"

"Shit...uh...is this English Comp?" I'm interrupted by the class room door opening and slamming shut. I turn my head towards the sound of the voice and am met with a girl. Her hair is down and around her face in soft, brown curls. The clothes on her body, although quite revealing, mold to her perfectly.

What the f**k did she just ask me?

"You're late," is all I can manage to say. My brain prevents me from speaking further. I can tell by the smirk on her face she noticed me looking at her, checking her out.

Fuck.

"Again, I'm going to ask, and this time keep your eyes up here..." she glances around the room for something but I'm not sure what. "Mr. Styles, is this English Comp?" I stare at her for a moment, thinking of how the way my name rolled off her tongue so smooth and soft.

I wonder what she could do with that tongue of hers.

Why the hell is this thought even entering my mind?

"And again I'm going to say you're late," I retort. I pick up the seating chart to see that there is only one empty seat with the name Devin Cavanaugh written across it. "Ms. Cavanaugh, would you mind taking a seat right up front please? You'll be there for the rest of the semester, unless you give me a reason otherwise to move you."

"I'm sure you'll enjoy the view from where I'm sitting so I don't see you moving me anytime soon, sir." She walks past me and as she does my senses tingle from the vanilla scent trailing off of her.

Harry, you're kinda smelling the air. Stop.

I clear my throat, setting down my seating chart down as she takes her seat in the front row.

"Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by Ms. Cavanaugh, I do not tolerate tardiness. It shows zero responsibility. Imagine this to be the first day on the job, your new boss will not tolerate you being late. You've just set the mood for their first impression of you. Since Ms. Cavanaugh here has been so kind as to be the first student late to my class, I think maybe the whole class should write me a two page - front to back - composition stating why it's important to be on time. Wouldn't you all agree?" I divert my eyes to Devin and send her a that's what you get for being late stare.

"Why are we getting punished for her being late, Mr. S?" one of my students complains.

"I'm not punishing you. Ms. Cavanaugh just simply provided me with an idea. She'll get her punishment tonight when she stays after school for detention."

"You're kidding me right?" I look back at Devin and she's clearly pissed. Good.

"I can be quite the jokester, but no, I'm not." I walk around my desk and take my seat. "You have until the end of class then I want them completed and on my desk." the class begins is to mutter things under their breath. I shake my head.

"You're an ass you know?" That seems to be the phrase of the day today.

"I've heard worse. But how about another day in detention for your little outburst?" I challenge her. She's huffs, crossing her small arms over her chest.

***

The class has ended and everyone's papers are turned in, all except one. Devin of course. She was the first to exit the room, storming out like a little kid throwing a fit because she couldn't get the new Barbie at the toy store. I'm sorry, but if you're late to my class I'm not going to tolerate it. I couldn't help it though, watching her leave. My mind filled with unhealthy, but mostly explicit thoughts. I know I shouldn't be having them about a student, but I'm a man, I can't help that about myself.

The day went by ever so slowly and I now have over one hundred papers to read through and grade. My eyes are tired and strained by the sixth one. I start to doze off a bit but I'm interrupted by my door opening and slamming shut for the second time today.

The most beautiful, big, light brown eyes catch mine. I spot the anger behind them when she stalks over to my desk, the assignment from this morning in hand. Instead of sitting in the chair she jumps up and sits on the desk. Her a eyes still on mine. Silence fills the room, not a word spoken between us. You would think the silence was awkward, but it's a welcomed, comfortable one.

I stand up from my desk, walking over to where she is sitting. I remain on my feet in front of her, my arms folded across my chest.

"I'm glad to see you made it on time," I finally speak, breaking the silence in the room.

"I didn't want another day of detention. I have better things to do than to watch you grade papers all night." she crosses one leg over the other, leaning her hands back on the desk, this causing her chest to appear more convex.

How am I this affected by her? What it is about her that draws me in? I shake my head, ridding it of the thoughts and walk back over to my desk to take a seat.

"I suggest you use this time wisely, Ms. Cavanaugh and write that paper I requested." Looking down I shuffle through the pile of papers on my desk. "It appears that I am still missing yours." When I glance back up she moves from the desk, reaches into her bag and pulls out a wrinkled piece of paper. She then walks over to my desk and throws it down in front of me.

"I couldn't think straight with you gawking at me the whole period, Mr. H. In all honesty you were quite distracting."

Apparently you were too.

I hadn't noticed I was looking at her. I think I may have stolen a few glance here and there. I am not sure how to reply to that as she walks back to the desk and takes her seat, a triumphant pep in her step.