The Teacher -Louis Tomlinson Fan-fiction

From the moment she walked in, Mr. Tomlinson knew he wanted her -but he knew he couldn't have her. She was the mystery girl in his dreams, he was the mystery guy in hers.
From the moment Amelia saw Mr. Tomlinson, she knew that her grades would fall. She knew she'd be distracted. She knew that Mr. Tomlinson was her mystery guy.
How could the two fall helplessly in love when Amelia is only 17 and Mr. Tomlinson is 21?


3. "You get a reward."

     I walked home slowly, my mind racing with thoughts about what would happen at Mr. Tomlinson's. There were endless possibilities on what he could do while we were there, some possibilities being horribly bad, and some being good. 

     As I entered my house, I heard my father screaming at my mother, yet again. It wasn't anything differently, and luckily, my father would be gone when I had to leave. We usually ate dinner at 3:00 P.M, and he usually left at 3:30, so with my luck, I can tell my mum and leave. 

     "Amelia!" I heard my father yell, his voice anything but something I couldn't recognize. 

     I shakily walked into the kitchen where I found my father chopping the carrots. 

     "I need to leave, finish chopping the carrots." He said to me, calming down a bit. He tried to stay calm around me, he tried to stay very content. He knew I hated it when he yelled at mum, or yelled in general. He knows me well, but he isn't anything compared to my mum. She's my best friend, he's just my parent. 

     "O-Okay." I took the knife out of his hand, beginning to chop the carrots. 

     As the front door shut, my mum came into the kitchen, a gash on her forehead. My mouth went agape, but she ignored it. 

     "Sweetie, I can do this for you. It's idiotic he makes you do it when you most likely have plans." She said sweetly, taking the knife from my fingers. 

     "Actually, I don't have plans until 5:00. I'm leaving at 4:30. My English teacher, Mr. Tomlinson, said due to my grades being low I need to get tutored." I told her, beginning to rinse the lettuce. 

     "Awh, Sweetie. Why is your grade so low? You're usually a straight A student." 

     I sighed, "It's just been hard to focus mum, you know how it is here at home. It distracts me during English." 

     She put down the knife and turned toward me. My mum cupped my cheeks, moving some hair out of my face. "I'm sorry, darling. It's all my fault, one day we'll leave." 

     I had tear drops dripping down my cheeks. Mum wiped them and whispered, "Soon, darling. We will leave soon."

     I checked the time, and sighed again. "I'm gonna head out, I will ask for a granola bar to hold me off at Mr. Tomlinson's." 

     "Be home by midnight, honey!" My mum chirped, kissing my cheek. "Be safe, remember... he's older than you."


     I whistled silently to myself as I rode up the elevator to Mr. Tomlinson's flat. It was weird, honestly, to think that I'd be going to his flat. The school would be against this 100%. 

     "Erm, can you tell me where this room is?" I asked someone passing by. I hadn't known who it was, I hadn't even looked at the face. 

    The person chuckled, a familiar chuckle. "Hello, Amelia."

     I looked up, a blush rising to my cheeks as I saw Mr. Tomlinson. 

     "You're just on time, come on. Follow me," He said, carrying groceries into a room.  

     I looked around the living room, taking notice of how everything was arranged. It was tidy, and neat, which is unfamiliar to a 21 year old. Maybe it's the fact he's so mature, or that he's not a teen, but it felt weird. 

     "So, how long will this session be, Mr. Tomlinson?" I asked him, turning toward him. 

     "Please, Amelia. Call me Louis, this isn't school." Louis informed me.

     Obviously it wasn't school, this place was tidy and clean as fuck.

     "If you want me to, sure." I bit my lip.

     Louis came into the living room, no books or anything involving English practice with him.

     "I thought this was a tutoring session?" 

     "Eh, hell with it. I think you just need some encouragement, nothing major, really." His smirk made it impossible to figure out what he meant. 

     "Erm, okay then." I bit my lip again. 

     "I need you to write out a scene where a boy meets a girl, and falls madly in love with her. If you do good, you get a reward." He talked to me like I was a dog. 

     I took the pen and paper, beginning to write: 

     He took her hand, smiling back at her. He kissed her cheek, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I love you." She smiled back, kissing him. 

     I stopped, I just couldn't write it correctly. I sighed, "Louis, I can't write this." 

     He read it over, smirking. "Well, for what it has, it actually is decent. Want your reward?" 

     "Yeah, actually. I do want my reward." 

     "Well, you have to wait for it, now." 






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