Cracks in Anchors

“Harry, this isn’t right.”

I didn’t want to; it was cheesy and stupid and used by creepy men, but I did anyway and said, “If it’s wrong then I don’t want to be right.”

A chuckle fell from her slightly agape mouth and I couldn’t help but pull her into me and run my soft hand through her tangled hair and crush her lips into mine. They morphed together perfectly and I could feel the heat that radiated from her shaking form. I grabbed her shoulders in an attempt to keep her still - to keep her all to myself.

A hand circled itself down towards my waistline and I felt like I was going to explode from the rush of wanting. I wanted it so bad - I wanted to feel her skin against mine, I wanted to feel her heart beating in time with mine and I wanted her like nothing I’d ever wanted before. I wanted her more than I wanted my dog, I wanted her more than I wanted Jolene the day I saw her in the coffee shop, I wanted her more than I wanted Jolene to be okay, I wanted her more than I wanted Jolene now.

I wanted to be her memories, I wanted to know all the things she kept hidden underneath her bones. I wanted her moon to be my moon and her air to be my air. I wanted every chemical part of her to be mine and I wanted her to want me.

A warm hand snaked itself down the front of my pants and I found myself groaning at the basic contact, making her chuckle and kiss my pulsating forehead.

“I didn’t know you’d be the one to make the first move, it kinda makes me feel less manly.” She didn’t hear me though because her hand kept pressing itself against my growing erection and I felt as she moved so she was straddling me in a half-sitting position. But I didn’t care because her shirt was pulling over her head and my pants were coming off and silk skin gleamed like pearls in the midnight light that casted through the open blinds.

“Mate, I think you’re having a dirty dream about “you-know-who.” Louis voice berated against my eardrum as I opened my eyes, only to be blinded by the open curtains and blinding morning sunlight.

“What are you talking about? I dreamed no such thing.” But I was lying because I did remember the pleasant dream that Louis just had to wake me up from; just when it was getting good. Louis knew I was lying, of course, and let a little “tsk” noise fall from his mouth before he turned to enter the kitchen.

“Really, Lou, I didn’t!”

“Okay so that was just a lustful moan of pain I heard then?” Louis mused, stepping into the kitchen and flinging open the metallic fridge door.

He rummaged through it a bit, I could hear the echoing clanks of the plastic containers as they were pushed around and collided into one another and it oddly reminded me of my relationship with Sullivan. I was one plastic container and she was the other; her filled with lemons and I filled with barbecue sauce, always colliding into one another only to pull apart in the end. But it wasn’t like we were anything close to a real relationship, it was more of me pulling her into me inch-by-inch to see whether she’d refuse or accept me, and as of now it seemed like she was leaning towards the latter.

“Like you haven’t had naughty dreams,” I finally said, swiping the milk cartoon from Louis’s hands and sitting myself down at the dinning table. Louis soon followed, scorning at me and taping his long fingers against the grainy wood.

“Harry, are you actually going to pursue Sullivan or what?”

I could hear the way his tone changed from light to heavy; the emotion flipped to humored to concerned, and in one second he went from joking about sex dreams to relationships with underage girls.

“I mean I like her a lot more than I should,” I took in a breath before I decided on what I was going to say, “I like her a lot more than I ever liked Jolene, even before. How fucked up is that?”

Because I really thought it was - being in love, or could I even call it love at that point, being in love with an underage was girl was highly frowned upon, but when you threw in the fact of me being her teacher, it brought it higher up on the perv-o-meter. I was probably a solid six and the only reason it wasn’t higher was because I was somewhat good-looking, I’d heard. I would be ripped apart in prison, if it ever came to that which, thankfully, it never did. But still, I would have been dropping the soap for a lot of men.

I heard a deep drag of air enter Louis’s lungs before he decided to speak again, his voice quavering like he was about to cry. “Well when you actually jump head-first into it, no matter what illegal shit you do, I want you to know I’ve got your back.”

And no truer words have ever been said by Louis Tomlinson since that day.



“Mr. Styles, in my pursuit for French fluency I’m going to try to read this book without the aid of Google Translate.” And then Sullivan held up a thick Harry-Potter-type book above her head and I heard a few students who giggled behind her.

“That looks too long, right guys?” I looked behind her lanky form to the slackers who lounged in their seats, passing notes back and forth like we were in the 90’s and trying to act discreet as they texted their friend in the next classroom over.

“Sullivan likes to read those big books, though,” A girl obviously trying to impress me blurted out as she popped her gum. I just smiled, being caring as possible, and ushered Sullivan back to her seat.

“I wasn’t a big reader back in school, to be honest.”

I watched as Sullivan rolled her eyes in that cute way of hers and felt my lower half heat up as memories from my dream poured into my thoughts. I tried to suppress the images of Sullivan’s milky skin pressing against mine, her hand grabbing onto my crotch which, as I sat shielded by the desk fortunately, began to grow erect. I cursed at myself and wished the previous French teacher was a mal who forgot to stuff their porn magazine into their box of things they needed to bring home. But unfortunately that wasn’t the case and I had to suffer another fifteen until the bell rang and the kids began to file out, but not until I quickly tried to slide my way past them and one of the jocks noticed my pained expression and awkward hand position.

“Mr. Styles, got a little something making you hot and bothered?” Maybe they thought since I was only a few years older than them it was okay to fuck around and make fun of me, but as the situation drew dire and more kids were turning to stare at me, I decided I’d play the smart ass and pretend I was in high school again. Like I was a classmate.

“You would know, you never get laid to help yourself, always gotta jack off.”

I saw Sullivan’s bemused eyes ripping me apart and burning a whole in my t-shirt and I hoped she looked humored because I was actually funny and not because she was laughing at my obvious penis pain.

But I couldn’t think about it harder or ask as I rushed to the bathroom and entered a stall to pee and drown myself in cold water.

Fuck Sullivan and dirty dreams.