Let Lips Do What Hands Do 2/10
Title: Let Lips Do What Hands Do
Chapter: 2/10
Pairing: Liam/Zayn
Word Count: 3,010
Rating: PG-13 (this chapter, higher later)
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Not mine, oh, but how I wish they were.
Summary: You're not supposed to fall in love with students, it's unethical or something.
Chapter Two
The year thirteen English class trickled in through the door, all chatting animatedly with each other as they found their seats and waited for the lesson to begin. Zayn slid off from where he was perched on his desk to stand in front of his students. He clapped his hands together once to get their attention. It didn’t work.
“Okay, alright settle down, I know lunch is exciting but it’s not as exciting as Shakespeare, am I right?” He had his hands held out in front of himself expectantly, and the majority of his class looked at him like he was an idiot. Zayn shifted his gaze to the back row hoping to have a different reaction from his favourite students. Harry wasn’t even looking at him; instead he was busily texting off the phone in his hands. Niall was looking at him, and he was shaking his head, mouthing the word ‘no’ when Zayn caught his eye. And Liam was fiddling with the cover of his copy of Romeo and Juliet, a small half smile playing across his lips, it was nice to know Zayn had at least one ally on the ‘Shakespeare is cool’ front.
“Suit yourselves then,” he sighed, “Seeing as you are all so thrilled to be starting this play, I'm just going to go ahead and read the prologue and maybe act one scene one, when we do it tomorrow, to you by myself so you don’t fight over roles. Unless, anyone would care to help me?” He clicked his tongue at them when they remained silent. “Before we start though, Styles, phone away.”
Harry looked up at the mention of his name, false-innocence plastered all over his face. “It is away, Sir.”
“I can see it in your hand Harry.”
“No, Sir. This isn’t my phone.” He maintained his look of innocence while holding what was very obviously his phone; clearly he was doing well in drama. Beside him Niall was hunched over laughing, head pillowed in his arms while Liam looked faintly disapprovingly at Harry over top of Niall’s head.
Zayn arched a brow. “Put it away, and turn it off, or I will take it and you can have it back on Friday.”
The boy looked at him, aghast. “Friday?” he choked out. “That’s cruel, Sir.” Zayn nodded at him, but Harry was already stashing his phone in the pocket of his jeans.
“Okay, so, open your books to the prologue. I’ll read that bit seeing as it’s only one part and then we can discuss it for a bit. Afterwards, you can either volunteer for a part or I can just pick you. Everyone is going to have to read at sometime, so don’t think you can get out of it by just not volunteering, okay?” The class nodded, some looking more apprehensive than others, and flipped open their copies of the play.
Zayn cleared his throat and began to read. “’Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, whose misadventured piteous overthrows doth with their death bury their parents strife. The fearful passage of their death-marked love, and the continuance of their parents’ rage, which but their children’s end, naught would remove, is now the two hours traffic of our stage, the which if you with patient ears attend, what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.’”
He looked up at his class to see some of them re-reading the passage looking slightly unsure, while others were doodling in their workbooks. The boys at the back were having a whispered conversation.
“Who can tell me what that was all about then?” A few tentative hands went up. Zayn picked the one that looked the most confident, a young woman called Justine, who had her sleek dark hair cut into a rather severe bob.
“It’s supposed to, like, tell you about the play without giving it all away right?” She continued after Zayn's nod of encouragement. “So pretty much there are two families and they don’t get on, and their kids fall in love, but they don’t like that, so the kids off themselves.”
“Good, yeah.” Zayn smiled at her and she nodded to herself in a self-satisfied way. “Right, for the rest of the lesson, I want you in twos,” He just caught the way Liam looked between Harry and Niall, “or threes,” Liam gave a small nod when Harry bumped a fist into his shoulder, silently asking him to join them. “Read through the prologue again, and I want for you to write me a new version of it - a modern-day English equivalent. Ask me if you need help, and drop them on my desk at the end of the lesson. Names on the top, please.”
The room dissolved into noise, soft chatter and the scraping of desks and chairs as students shifted to be closer to their group-mates. One student piped up over the noise; hand in the air to get Zayn’s attention.
“Sir? Does it have to rhyme like this one does?”
He shook his head at the boy. “Nah, but try and keep it about the same length. Also, I’ll be handing back holiday homework so just come up and collect it when I call your name.”
He handed back all of the homework and answered a few queries, the noise-level lowering slightly every time so that his answer and most of the original question could be heard. Soon enough the bell sounded and the class rose almost as one, pushing desks back into place and shoving books into backpacks.
“We’ll be doing act one scene one on Thursday, read over it so you’re prepared.” he called out to his students as they shuffled out, dropping sheets of paper covered in messy handwriting on his desk as they left.
***
Zayn read through most of act one by himself before he got all the voices he was putting on for each character muddled and ended up picking a few kids from the front row to help him. On Friday they read through act two, all of the part read by conscripts except for one, a girl in the second row willing to play Paris. He spent the weekend marking homework, with Louis, or on the phone to his mum and sisters. The occasional call was made to the quit-line when he was feeling desperate for a smoke and needed someone to help him find the willpower to deny himself one, because one would turn into two and that would turn into half a pack by Monday morning.
They read scenes three and four on Monday and Tuesday, a few more students volunteering each time. They had either decided it wasn’t going to be too painful an experience or that it was best to get it over with before Zayn picked them for a part. Some were better at reading aloud than others. Most, however, had the slow and stilted speech often acquired when reading Shakespeare.
Then it was Thursday day again and Liam was raising his hand, offering to take the part of Romeo.
“Okay, big part, think you can handle it?”
Liam shrugged. “I’ll give it a go.”
“Good.” He was quietly impressed that someone had volunteered themselves for a main part, especially since this scene also introduced Juliet. Speaking of… “We need a Juliet for this scene, girls?” He searched their faces but all seemed to be avoiding his gaze. “Boys?” Soft laughter rang out along with a few calls of ‘really sir?’
“No one? Okay, I’ll do it then.” The laughter in the room got a bit louder before Zayn cut them off. “Come on, I know some of you do history. The roles of women were played by men when these plays were written because women weren’t allowed to act on stage. We’re being historically accurate here.”
“In that case, Sir,” Harry called from his seat in the back. “I’d like to play Juliet’s nurse.”
“Cool. Anyone else?” There was a muffled yelp from the back and Zayn saw Niall rubbing a hand over his ribs after what could only have been a jab from Harry.
Niall raised his hand and was still scowling at Harry when he spoke, “I’d like to be the, uh, the Third Servingman?”
“You know that part’s only two lines?” Niall just nodded when Zayn asked, “Okay, let’s get to it then. Ben, you can play the First Servingman. Take it away.”
At first Ben appeared slightly startled at being randomly selected before shrugging and beginning to read aloud. Zayn picked up the role of Second Servingman and shortly it was Niall’s turn.
“We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly boys! Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.” He sat looking quite pleased with himself as a boy across the room began speaking Capulet’s part, tripping over some of the words and timings but doing well nonetheless. It would be Liam’s turn soon and Zayn watched him as he followed along with the words, his finger tracing down the page as each new line began.
Liam cleared his throat before he began to read. “What lady’s that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?” He paused to let Servingman Ben speak before starting up again with a speech about Juliet’s beauty. Zayn sat back on his desktop, play book clasped loosely in his hand as he watched Liam. The boy was by far the best at reading Shakespeare so far. He didn’t fall victim to stilted speaking patterns as some of the others had. Instead, he spoke confidently, letting the sentences flow naturally, Zayn was sort of transfixed. Of course, he was taking a completely professional interest in the way Liam spoke long forgotten words like he used them every day, right up until Liam flicked his eyes up from his book to meet Zayn’s as he spoke his last lines for the moment. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight. For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”
Zayn knew he’d held Liam gaze for just too long when Liam’s face had started to colour, flushing high on his cheekbones. Liam stared a second longer before looking away, Zayn quickly following suit and nodding approvingly towards the girl making a decent effort at playing Tybalt. He’d tried to fight it, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him, and Zayn had to know if Liam was looking at him again. He let his gaze drift around the room before settling on Liam, who had his eyes on his book and not on Zayn. He wasn’t red in the face anymore either, and as he was turning the page, Liam wet his lips, tongue quickly swiping out to run over his bottom lip. Curiosity satiated, Zayn looked away and flicked to the right page.
Their back and forth as Romeo and Juliet was easy, both of them confident enough with Shakespeare that neither of them struggled with the lines. Liam didn’t look up at Zayn this time. However, he did glare at Harry once or twice when he was jabbed in ribs, mostly when the stage directions mentioned kissing. Zayn did notice Liam blushed again; the whole class was watching him and also having a bit of a giggle about Zayn playing Juliet. Suddenly, Harry burst forth rather dramatically with his first line, startling Niall from where he had started to doze off. Harry took to the part of Juliet’s nurse like a duck to water - he even affected a shrill elderly woman’s voice. Liam looked a little relieved when he finished, slumping back in his chair to watch Harry and Zayn’s conversation just before the scene ended.
Zayn had the class talk about the scene they had just read over for about ten minutes before deciding that it was close enough to the end of the lesson to just stop there. Everybody seemed to perk up at the fact, that because this lesson was the last of the day, being let out earlier meant also getting out of school early. Zayn shushed their delighted chatter with a reminder than other classes were still working so they would have to be quiet moving through the halls.
“Also, just before you leave, make sure you’re here tomorrow so I can give you your next novel.”
A boy groaned as he rose from his seat. “But I haven’t even finished the first one, Sir.”
“Then you’d better read faster.” Zayn shook his head when the boy rolled his eyes. “You’ve also got to read two that I haven’t given you, remember.” The boy sighed and nodded as he left the class, punching his friend in the back when he was laughed at.
***
The following Tuesday Liam met with him after school to discuss the first novel they were given, 1984 by George Orwell. They sat face to face on desk tops, Liam asking questions about themes and symbolism while Zayn tried to answer them in a way that wouldn’t give Liam too much of an advantage over his class mates. It was easy talking with him. Generally when Zayn had students asking to discuss things with him they would trip over their words, embarrassed to be asking for help or, else they were too vague with what they needed and finding out was like pulling teeth for Zayn. But with Liam it was effortless; he came up with good points of his own or added to what Zayn was telling him. He was a very capable and enthusiastic student and Zayn was glad of that, and maybe even a little proud. Liam finally left when one of Zayn’s year 10 students knocked on the door with a pile of library books under one arm and tears in her eyes.
***
As the class was leaving for lunch on Friday, Liam ducked out from the arm Niall had slung around his shoulders and stopped in front of Zayn’s desk.
“Do you want us to wait for you?” Niall asked him from the doorway where he and Harry had stopped.
Liam waved them away. “Nah, I’ll be two minutes, I’ll catch up.”
“Right.” Niall nodded and he and Harry turned to leave. He stopped again and said over his shoulder, “But if you’re any longer I'm not going to stop Cher from nicking your seat.”
“Two minutes.” Liam reiterated. He waited until the other boys were further down the hall before addressing Zayn. “Mr Malik, Sir, I was wondering if we could talk again after school? I’ve finished Dorian Grey already and I just wanted your thoughts on a few things.”
Zayn was surprised; Liam was probably the first one finished. In fact, he was probably the only one who’d started as well. “Yeah, that’s fine. You can just pop by. You know I'm always here, there’s no need to ask.”
Liam’s expression looked troubled and he brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “See that’s the thing, Sir, I'm actually going to be busy right after school. I'm going over to Harry’s with Niall to practice for music. So I was thinking we could meet after that… there’s this pub that I walk past on my way home from Harry’s and we could do it there?”
“A pub?” Zayn’s eyes went wide before his brow furrowed. “I'm not sure that’s the wisest thing, Liam.”
“I know, but it’s a lot easier for me. I mean, it’s on my way home from and I wouldn’t have to walk all the way back here. Besides, it’s not really a pub; it’s more like a café with beer.” Liam himself looked a little unconvinced at that but shrugged anyway.
Zayn was still frowning. “I just don’t feel it’s entirely appropriate to meet with you in a place that serves alcohol, especially at half five on a Friday.”
“I'm eighteen, Sir, and it’s not like I plan to drink.” Zayn could swear Liam wanted to roll his eyes at him.
“But still, it’s a pub, Liam.”
“Would you rather we go to your house then? It doesn’t bother me. I just think that if I wait to talk to you on Monday that I'm not going to benefit as much. I'm going to be busy this weekend, so I won’t be able to write down everything I want to discuss let alone have time to go over the book again.” Liam looked at him, eyebrows arched slightly. His expression was almost pleadingly hopeful.
Zayn sighed and bit at his bottom lip. “Alright,” he said warily, “but only because it is Friday and waiting ‘til Monday would mean you didn’t have everything fresh in your mind. Also, because going to my flat is completely out of the question.”
“So, for the sake of my education then, Sir, it’s best to meet tonight?” Liam grinned and pushed his fingers through his fringe.
Zayn could only look at him and nod slowly. He was still trying to decide if this was a good idea or a really bad one. He’d be out with one of his students. On a Friday night. At a pub. So, probably not a good idea then. Probably a very unethical idea, and yet he still wasn’t saying no.
“Do you have a pen? I’ll write down where it is.” Zayn handed over the pen he was holding and their fingers brushed slightly as Liam took it from him. The boy leant over and wrote the address on Zayn’s desk jotter. His handwriting was a sort of neat half-cursive. “There. I should run actually, they’ve probably given my seat to Cher, those pricks. Oh, sorry. I’ll see you later then.” He smiled again, cheeks flushed slightly, probably from swearing in front of Zayn, and headed out the door.
***
A/N: Okay second chapter down, I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated, I do try to respond to all comments as well. Also my knowledge of A-levels is abysmal, I actually Googled 'how the fuck do a-levels work' so just go with it? Please? And even thought I have a lovely team of proof-readers, all errors are my own. xx
Chapter One
Chapter: 2/10
Pairing: Liam/Zayn
Word Count: 3,010
Rating: PG-13 (this chapter, higher later)
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Not mine, oh, but how I wish they were.
Summary: You're not supposed to fall in love with students, it's unethical or something.
Chapter Two
The year thirteen English class trickled in through the door, all chatting animatedly with each other as they found their seats and waited for the lesson to begin. Zayn slid off from where he was perched on his desk to stand in front of his students. He clapped his hands together once to get their attention. It didn’t work.
“Okay, alright settle down, I know lunch is exciting but it’s not as exciting as Shakespeare, am I right?” He had his hands held out in front of himself expectantly, and the majority of his class looked at him like he was an idiot. Zayn shifted his gaze to the back row hoping to have a different reaction from his favourite students. Harry wasn’t even looking at him; instead he was busily texting off the phone in his hands. Niall was looking at him, and he was shaking his head, mouthing the word ‘no’ when Zayn caught his eye. And Liam was fiddling with the cover of his copy of Romeo and Juliet, a small half smile playing across his lips, it was nice to know Zayn had at least one ally on the ‘Shakespeare is cool’ front.
“Suit yourselves then,” he sighed, “Seeing as you are all so thrilled to be starting this play, I'm just going to go ahead and read the prologue and maybe act one scene one, when we do it tomorrow, to you by myself so you don’t fight over roles. Unless, anyone would care to help me?” He clicked his tongue at them when they remained silent. “Before we start though, Styles, phone away.”
Harry looked up at the mention of his name, false-innocence plastered all over his face. “It is away, Sir.”
“I can see it in your hand Harry.”
“No, Sir. This isn’t my phone.” He maintained his look of innocence while holding what was very obviously his phone; clearly he was doing well in drama. Beside him Niall was hunched over laughing, head pillowed in his arms while Liam looked faintly disapprovingly at Harry over top of Niall’s head.
Zayn arched a brow. “Put it away, and turn it off, or I will take it and you can have it back on Friday.”
The boy looked at him, aghast. “Friday?” he choked out. “That’s cruel, Sir.” Zayn nodded at him, but Harry was already stashing his phone in the pocket of his jeans.
“Okay, so, open your books to the prologue. I’ll read that bit seeing as it’s only one part and then we can discuss it for a bit. Afterwards, you can either volunteer for a part or I can just pick you. Everyone is going to have to read at sometime, so don’t think you can get out of it by just not volunteering, okay?” The class nodded, some looking more apprehensive than others, and flipped open their copies of the play.
Zayn cleared his throat and began to read. “’Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, whose misadventured piteous overthrows doth with their death bury their parents strife. The fearful passage of their death-marked love, and the continuance of their parents’ rage, which but their children’s end, naught would remove, is now the two hours traffic of our stage, the which if you with patient ears attend, what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.’”
He looked up at his class to see some of them re-reading the passage looking slightly unsure, while others were doodling in their workbooks. The boys at the back were having a whispered conversation.
“Who can tell me what that was all about then?” A few tentative hands went up. Zayn picked the one that looked the most confident, a young woman called Justine, who had her sleek dark hair cut into a rather severe bob.
“It’s supposed to, like, tell you about the play without giving it all away right?” She continued after Zayn's nod of encouragement. “So pretty much there are two families and they don’t get on, and their kids fall in love, but they don’t like that, so the kids off themselves.”
“Good, yeah.” Zayn smiled at her and she nodded to herself in a self-satisfied way. “Right, for the rest of the lesson, I want you in twos,” He just caught the way Liam looked between Harry and Niall, “or threes,” Liam gave a small nod when Harry bumped a fist into his shoulder, silently asking him to join them. “Read through the prologue again, and I want for you to write me a new version of it - a modern-day English equivalent. Ask me if you need help, and drop them on my desk at the end of the lesson. Names on the top, please.”
The room dissolved into noise, soft chatter and the scraping of desks and chairs as students shifted to be closer to their group-mates. One student piped up over the noise; hand in the air to get Zayn’s attention.
“Sir? Does it have to rhyme like this one does?”
He shook his head at the boy. “Nah, but try and keep it about the same length. Also, I’ll be handing back holiday homework so just come up and collect it when I call your name.”
He handed back all of the homework and answered a few queries, the noise-level lowering slightly every time so that his answer and most of the original question could be heard. Soon enough the bell sounded and the class rose almost as one, pushing desks back into place and shoving books into backpacks.
“We’ll be doing act one scene one on Thursday, read over it so you’re prepared.” he called out to his students as they shuffled out, dropping sheets of paper covered in messy handwriting on his desk as they left.
***
Zayn read through most of act one by himself before he got all the voices he was putting on for each character muddled and ended up picking a few kids from the front row to help him. On Friday they read through act two, all of the part read by conscripts except for one, a girl in the second row willing to play Paris. He spent the weekend marking homework, with Louis, or on the phone to his mum and sisters. The occasional call was made to the quit-line when he was feeling desperate for a smoke and needed someone to help him find the willpower to deny himself one, because one would turn into two and that would turn into half a pack by Monday morning.
They read scenes three and four on Monday and Tuesday, a few more students volunteering each time. They had either decided it wasn’t going to be too painful an experience or that it was best to get it over with before Zayn picked them for a part. Some were better at reading aloud than others. Most, however, had the slow and stilted speech often acquired when reading Shakespeare.
Then it was Thursday day again and Liam was raising his hand, offering to take the part of Romeo.
“Okay, big part, think you can handle it?”
Liam shrugged. “I’ll give it a go.”
“Good.” He was quietly impressed that someone had volunteered themselves for a main part, especially since this scene also introduced Juliet. Speaking of… “We need a Juliet for this scene, girls?” He searched their faces but all seemed to be avoiding his gaze. “Boys?” Soft laughter rang out along with a few calls of ‘really sir?’
“No one? Okay, I’ll do it then.” The laughter in the room got a bit louder before Zayn cut them off. “Come on, I know some of you do history. The roles of women were played by men when these plays were written because women weren’t allowed to act on stage. We’re being historically accurate here.”
“In that case, Sir,” Harry called from his seat in the back. “I’d like to play Juliet’s nurse.”
“Cool. Anyone else?” There was a muffled yelp from the back and Zayn saw Niall rubbing a hand over his ribs after what could only have been a jab from Harry.
Niall raised his hand and was still scowling at Harry when he spoke, “I’d like to be the, uh, the Third Servingman?”
“You know that part’s only two lines?” Niall just nodded when Zayn asked, “Okay, let’s get to it then. Ben, you can play the First Servingman. Take it away.”
At first Ben appeared slightly startled at being randomly selected before shrugging and beginning to read aloud. Zayn picked up the role of Second Servingman and shortly it was Niall’s turn.
“We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly boys! Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.” He sat looking quite pleased with himself as a boy across the room began speaking Capulet’s part, tripping over some of the words and timings but doing well nonetheless. It would be Liam’s turn soon and Zayn watched him as he followed along with the words, his finger tracing down the page as each new line began.
Liam cleared his throat before he began to read. “What lady’s that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?” He paused to let Servingman Ben speak before starting up again with a speech about Juliet’s beauty. Zayn sat back on his desktop, play book clasped loosely in his hand as he watched Liam. The boy was by far the best at reading Shakespeare so far. He didn’t fall victim to stilted speaking patterns as some of the others had. Instead, he spoke confidently, letting the sentences flow naturally, Zayn was sort of transfixed. Of course, he was taking a completely professional interest in the way Liam spoke long forgotten words like he used them every day, right up until Liam flicked his eyes up from his book to meet Zayn’s as he spoke his last lines for the moment. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight. For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”
Zayn knew he’d held Liam gaze for just too long when Liam’s face had started to colour, flushing high on his cheekbones. Liam stared a second longer before looking away, Zayn quickly following suit and nodding approvingly towards the girl making a decent effort at playing Tybalt. He’d tried to fight it, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him, and Zayn had to know if Liam was looking at him again. He let his gaze drift around the room before settling on Liam, who had his eyes on his book and not on Zayn. He wasn’t red in the face anymore either, and as he was turning the page, Liam wet his lips, tongue quickly swiping out to run over his bottom lip. Curiosity satiated, Zayn looked away and flicked to the right page.
Their back and forth as Romeo and Juliet was easy, both of them confident enough with Shakespeare that neither of them struggled with the lines. Liam didn’t look up at Zayn this time. However, he did glare at Harry once or twice when he was jabbed in ribs, mostly when the stage directions mentioned kissing. Zayn did notice Liam blushed again; the whole class was watching him and also having a bit of a giggle about Zayn playing Juliet. Suddenly, Harry burst forth rather dramatically with his first line, startling Niall from where he had started to doze off. Harry took to the part of Juliet’s nurse like a duck to water - he even affected a shrill elderly woman’s voice. Liam looked a little relieved when he finished, slumping back in his chair to watch Harry and Zayn’s conversation just before the scene ended.
Zayn had the class talk about the scene they had just read over for about ten minutes before deciding that it was close enough to the end of the lesson to just stop there. Everybody seemed to perk up at the fact, that because this lesson was the last of the day, being let out earlier meant also getting out of school early. Zayn shushed their delighted chatter with a reminder than other classes were still working so they would have to be quiet moving through the halls.
“Also, just before you leave, make sure you’re here tomorrow so I can give you your next novel.”
A boy groaned as he rose from his seat. “But I haven’t even finished the first one, Sir.”
“Then you’d better read faster.” Zayn shook his head when the boy rolled his eyes. “You’ve also got to read two that I haven’t given you, remember.” The boy sighed and nodded as he left the class, punching his friend in the back when he was laughed at.
***
The following Tuesday Liam met with him after school to discuss the first novel they were given, 1984 by George Orwell. They sat face to face on desk tops, Liam asking questions about themes and symbolism while Zayn tried to answer them in a way that wouldn’t give Liam too much of an advantage over his class mates. It was easy talking with him. Generally when Zayn had students asking to discuss things with him they would trip over their words, embarrassed to be asking for help or, else they were too vague with what they needed and finding out was like pulling teeth for Zayn. But with Liam it was effortless; he came up with good points of his own or added to what Zayn was telling him. He was a very capable and enthusiastic student and Zayn was glad of that, and maybe even a little proud. Liam finally left when one of Zayn’s year 10 students knocked on the door with a pile of library books under one arm and tears in her eyes.
***
As the class was leaving for lunch on Friday, Liam ducked out from the arm Niall had slung around his shoulders and stopped in front of Zayn’s desk.
“Do you want us to wait for you?” Niall asked him from the doorway where he and Harry had stopped.
Liam waved them away. “Nah, I’ll be two minutes, I’ll catch up.”
“Right.” Niall nodded and he and Harry turned to leave. He stopped again and said over his shoulder, “But if you’re any longer I'm not going to stop Cher from nicking your seat.”
“Two minutes.” Liam reiterated. He waited until the other boys were further down the hall before addressing Zayn. “Mr Malik, Sir, I was wondering if we could talk again after school? I’ve finished Dorian Grey already and I just wanted your thoughts on a few things.”
Zayn was surprised; Liam was probably the first one finished. In fact, he was probably the only one who’d started as well. “Yeah, that’s fine. You can just pop by. You know I'm always here, there’s no need to ask.”
Liam’s expression looked troubled and he brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “See that’s the thing, Sir, I'm actually going to be busy right after school. I'm going over to Harry’s with Niall to practice for music. So I was thinking we could meet after that… there’s this pub that I walk past on my way home from Harry’s and we could do it there?”
“A pub?” Zayn’s eyes went wide before his brow furrowed. “I'm not sure that’s the wisest thing, Liam.”
“I know, but it’s a lot easier for me. I mean, it’s on my way home from and I wouldn’t have to walk all the way back here. Besides, it’s not really a pub; it’s more like a café with beer.” Liam himself looked a little unconvinced at that but shrugged anyway.
Zayn was still frowning. “I just don’t feel it’s entirely appropriate to meet with you in a place that serves alcohol, especially at half five on a Friday.”
“I'm eighteen, Sir, and it’s not like I plan to drink.” Zayn could swear Liam wanted to roll his eyes at him.
“But still, it’s a pub, Liam.”
“Would you rather we go to your house then? It doesn’t bother me. I just think that if I wait to talk to you on Monday that I'm not going to benefit as much. I'm going to be busy this weekend, so I won’t be able to write down everything I want to discuss let alone have time to go over the book again.” Liam looked at him, eyebrows arched slightly. His expression was almost pleadingly hopeful.
Zayn sighed and bit at his bottom lip. “Alright,” he said warily, “but only because it is Friday and waiting ‘til Monday would mean you didn’t have everything fresh in your mind. Also, because going to my flat is completely out of the question.”
“So, for the sake of my education then, Sir, it’s best to meet tonight?” Liam grinned and pushed his fingers through his fringe.
Zayn could only look at him and nod slowly. He was still trying to decide if this was a good idea or a really bad one. He’d be out with one of his students. On a Friday night. At a pub. So, probably not a good idea then. Probably a very unethical idea, and yet he still wasn’t saying no.
“Do you have a pen? I’ll write down where it is.” Zayn handed over the pen he was holding and their fingers brushed slightly as Liam took it from him. The boy leant over and wrote the address on Zayn’s desk jotter. His handwriting was a sort of neat half-cursive. “There. I should run actually, they’ve probably given my seat to Cher, those pricks. Oh, sorry. I’ll see you later then.” He smiled again, cheeks flushed slightly, probably from swearing in front of Zayn, and headed out the door.
***
A/N: Okay second chapter down, I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated, I do try to respond to all comments as well. Also my knowledge of A-levels is abysmal, I actually Googled 'how the fuck do a-levels work' so just go with it? Please? And even thought I have a lovely team of proof-readers, all errors are my own. xx
Chapter One