"When did this become a thing?"

"Louis got really drunk and wanted to mess around. I told him he was too wasted but here we are."

Lou brushes his sandy hair off his shoulder, smirking. "He still sucked me off."

Liam's eyes bulge out, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"Louis!"

I just chuckle, happy they're finally a couple. I thought I would be forced to mash their lips together and tell them to accept their feelings. It was always so obvious there was tension between them.

"I'm just estatic you finally dumped Sam. Do you jack off alone in your room now?"

"Oh my gosh Louis, watch your mouth."

"You love this mouth."

If embarrassment could kill, Liam would drop dead.

"You'll find someone Harry," Liam pats my shoulder, a broad smile on his face.

"Yeah, I'm sure there's someone stupid enough to fall for you," Lou adds jokingly.

he doesn't just teach

metaphors

and rhyme schemes,

he teaches about

love and loss

and what it's like

to truly live,

i've been dead

for years now,

but my heart

is no longer

dormant

"I'm assuming you guys were angels while Ed was here. I had a family emergency, sorry about the short notice. I love you guys. Let's talk about John Keats. What in the hell is up with him? Why is his poetry so popular? Let's chat."

"His poignant portrayal of love," Liam is quick to answer.

Zayn nods in agreement and scribbles it up on the board.

"I dig it. I like it. Any other thoughts, comments, criticisms?"

The room grows still, silence swallowing me up. "I did assign a few readings over Keats when I was gone, didn't I? You were supposed to answer questions over him."

"Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art."

He pivots on his heel, his head titling as the wheels churn in his brain. He wields his dry erase marker like a powerful weapon, strong enough to puncture hearts as he writes on the board

why do we lament

over lost love?

why is there

such a poetic

emphasis

on love

why do our hearts

weep

and mourn

those who

don't really

give a damn

It strikes a chord with me, chills coursing down my spine.

what is it

about love

that we

ache for,

do we crave

pyhsical touch

or are we

desperate

for more,

our hearts

seeking bonds,

wishing

to be tethered

like knots

t

e

t

h

e

r

e

d

l

i

k

e

k

n

o

t

s

My heart rewinds the words over an over again until the film becomes twisted.

Now my stomach is in knots and I'm hoping this isn't about me. It churns like the sea before a storm and I want for him to explain. I wait for anything, a response from another student, a pen to drop but nothing happens.

People either stare blankly at the board or cast their eyes downward, burying their noses in their notebooks.

It seems like when people have to most to say they scramble and struggle to put their thoughts into words.

"Forgive me for wandering off topic. Let's just talk about To Autumn, yeah?"

"It's an ode," someone states flatly.

"Quite obviously an ode to autumn," Zayn smirks. "Glad we established that."

"Ripeness plays an important role," Liam adds.

"How so?"

"When we think if autumn, we think of an abundance or a cornucopia."

"Exactly."

"There's a certain richness to autumn," I posit.

Autumn is his favorite season.

"He contrasts heaviness and things falling and flying. It's fucking genius. The vines are loaded with fruit, the gourd is swollen and the hazelnuts are plump. Autumn is heavy with all of this bursting life. It's fruitful and beautiful."

He disregards all of that and responds to some girl's response about the juxtaposition of the seasons and embedded metaphors. Her answer seems to suit his fancy and they engage in a lengthy conversation about allegory.

I'm usually not the jealous type but this stings like a bee and it takes everything I have to keep my mouth silent the rest of class. I sketch somewhat lazily along the margins of my notebook and nearly jump out of my skin when the bell rings, rushing out with a mass of warm bodies to avoid Zayn.

...

I find myself dozing off on Thursday and it suddenly strikes me why I hated this class in the first place.

Zayn.

I hate his sudden coldness. He seems aloof. He's nervous, his hand jittery as he writes on the board. I figure it's more than just drinking too much coffee.

Maybe it's something I said or he's having second thoughts but then again he's the one that said it first.

Those three words, powerful enough to move mountains.

I love you.

"Hey, wait a second."

I shudder but turn around anyway, my feet halfway out the door.

"I'm sorry if you think I'm ignoring you."

"Thinking and knowing are two completely different things. Let me spell something out for you Mr. Malik, I k n o w you're ignoring me. See the difference?"

"Aren't we way past last names Mr. Styles?"

"Not if you don't want to be. Go ahead, give me the whole nine yards, the entire it's not you, it's me speech. I can take it. Fucking hit me with it."

and he does

like a ton

of bricks,

my heart

skipping

like stones

on a pond

"I don't want it to be obvious. People will get suspicious. You're brilliant Harry and I always cherish your answers but I can't just subtly confess my love for you the whole class, can I? It's you. Everything is you and my mind is reeling. Why are you all I think of?"

I get it. I understand where he's coming from. This is scary as hell. Raven hair and olive skin consumes my thoughts. It probably isn't healthy to become so attached to someone in such a short period of time.

my heart

twinges

at the thought

of losing him

and

my heart

hinders

as i realize

losing him

means

losing myself

"We need space and time."

"Okay," I breathe out unsteadily.

"Can we get through a few more weeks, just until you graduate?"

"Yeah," I speak with such certainty

but swallow the lump in my throat.