summary: harry styles, a fifth grade school teacher, meets noelle adler, a first grade school teacher, who just happens to be across the hall in room 115. harry has never been one to believe in 'love at first sight', but his inclination begins to question when he realizes that he can't stop staring at noelle in faculty meetings and begins to introduce her to his lifestyle outside of the classroom.
in an attempt to win her heart, will harry begin to question everything he's ever known about love? or will her own demons battle his in an attempt to keep them apart?
author's note: this is a story I begun a few years ago; it has about 6 chapters so far. I took it down from wattpad, & thought I'd give it a go with you all - figured you all would appreciate elementary school teacher LHH for a little bit. we'll see how it goes & if you all like updated chapter stories! I haven't gotten much reception from them in the past on here (with the exception from majesty, but even that doesn't have too much traction) - so we'll see how this goes, and I'll look to see if we can make these updates a regular thing... hope you enjoy <3
PROLOGUE
This is a story between a man with no inhibitions, and a woman who seeks for what she can't find. It's a true story, which makes it all that much more interesting... or so it goes.
We meet them separately, for their meeting hasn't occurred yet– not at this part of the story, however. But they're destined to meet, destined to find what each other have been looking for all along.
Neither a clue, nor a cause for their search, but a plan that the universe has set up entirely. That's the funny thing about the universe; the skeptics don't believe that the stars have anything to do with our future, but they'd be wrong.
Oh, how wrong they'd be.
See, in this story, the man and the woman struggle to make sense of their stories, their lives. They haven't imagined looking far beyond themselves to think that what they may need wasn't what they believed all along.
This is a romance story, sure But this story is more than that.
It's about finding the quirks, loving the journey, and celebrating the little things. It would be boring to say that this story came together in every aspect; Harry met Noelle, Noelle met Harry and the rest was history.
But let's start our story at the beginning. Some may call it love at first sight, but that's impossible for someone who believes that love doesn't exist to begin with. Well, real love, that is.
The man drops his keys when he steps out of his car, subtle cursing follows through his lips as he bends down to pick them up from the hot pavement. It's warm, it's nearing the end of summertime up in the cozy, seaside village, but there were still a few weeks of steaming, humid days ahead of them.
He wipes his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt, knowing that the temperatures are reaching higher levels today, so he is glad that he's inside most of the day in the stark cool air conditioning. His hair is pulled back into a bun, off of his neck. He had grown his hair long over the summer, a bit longer than prior years.
There's a box that sits in the back of his car, a small box of items that he had taken from the classroom last year. He knew that he would be in the same one this year, Room 113, so packing up meant including only his personal items.
The walk to the room isn't far from the front door; it's down the west wing and to the left. The hallways will soon be filled with laughter and screaming, a bit of chaos and roars of kids lining the halls as he navigates them as they run into his legs and he has to remind them to slow down.
It's his third year here at Middletown Elementary, and he wonders if he'll ever leave. It starts to feel a bit too comfortable, which the man doesn't enjoy too much. Being comfortable sets you up for the opportunity of being hurt; leaving now would mean that he could get out unscathed. Especially if something were to happen-- he wouldn't be able to say what that something was, mind you.
But he was always prepared to leave, to get out while he still could.
Flipping on the lights in Room 113, he notices that the name on the door exhibits his own: Mr. Styles.
He sets down the box on the desk; it's barren, only holding the computer monitor and keyboard provided.
The desks and chairs need to be rearranged to his liking, the posters need to be hung up, the string lights he uses for reading times need to be set up, the carpets need to be laid down for optimal class free-time.
There's a lot to do, and he's starting to feel overwhelmed by the list, even when he recognized that everything still felt in place from last year. He grabs a few folders from the box, filled with papers that he had from years prior that he planned to recycle and use again.
The cabinet is unlocked, filing systems that sit behind his desk as he starts to add a few files into the cabinet drawers. He misses the sound of the flip-flopped sandals that approach his classroom door.
"Excuse me?"
The man is interrupted from organizing the filing cabinet that he had started to put back together, adding in the coloring pages and vocabulary quizzes that he had gathered.
Something about the interruption is totally forgotten as he looks at the woman that lingers in the doorway to his classroom.
Soft and sweet, she's quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on, and that would be the most wild idea he's ever had. It's a quick spark, which renders him speechless.
The shock is quick when he recognizes that his response is late; he'd been too busy wondering if his reality was real afterall.
"Oh, sorry– hi, yeah," The man stumbles out, standing from his crouched position at the cabinet by his desk. "What, uh, what's up?"
The woman looks a bit lost, out of place. The man can't seem to read her as he notices that a sheepish smile lays on her lips. He hadn't recognized her.
"I was in a hurry this morning, and I forgot to bring a stapler. You wouldn't happen to have an extra one I can borrow, would you?"
There's a bit of worry in her voice, as if she's nervous– possibly a bit frantic. It was only the beginning of the day, and the man believed that he would be working solo today as it was the first day to get acquainted in the classroom.
The man opens his mouth to speak, eyes glued on the way that the mid-length denim shorts sat on her porcelain skin in the sunny, late morning sunshine.
There's a silence for a moment, the man's eyes looking towards the only stapler that he brought that day.
"Here," He hands it to her, knowing that getting close to her feels like his lungs are losing air quicker. "You can have this one."
A soft smile is exchanged between them; and it's because of the freckles that litter her cheeks, the contrast of the browns and greens that elicit her eyes. The copper tone of her hair and softness of her facial features.
The woman's hair is pulled up in a ponytail, loose strands hang in her face to frame the oval shape.
She places her hands on her hips, the high neck tank top is complimenting her skin in a mauve color– the freckles that literally her skin with no rhyme or reason seem fascinating to the man.
"Sorry– you looked busy. I just– I'm Noelle, by the way. I'm new this year. It's actually– it's my first year teaching. Like, ever." She chuckles a bit at her words, almost like she's worried that the man would judge her for them, "I guess I'm a bit all over the place."
The man nods his head without much more questioning, giving her a promising smile, "What grade?"
"First. I'm, uh, right across the hall," She points with her thumb behind her, directing towards the room, "Room 115."
It was certainly a surprise to hear that she had taken over the room for Mrs. Hallens, but he figured that she retired and they replaced her with... Noelle. The man shifted his weight on his feet as he stood across from her.
"Ah, we're neighbors, then." He smirks at her for a moment before a wash of confusion crosses over his face, "Oh, sorry, my name. I'm Harry. I teach fifth."
The woman smiles, teeth bright and kind, "Glad to meet you, Harry."
She holds the stapler in her hands, lifting to gesture back to that conversation.
"Thanks again for this," She nods a few times, biting on the strawberry plumpness of her lips he definitely hadn't been staring at. The man shrugs his shoulders, nonchalant enough to show that there hadn't been an issue with it.
"Let me know if you, like, need help with anything else," he offers, his hands rest on his hips as he tries to act a bit casual, "It can be a bit stressful, but first graders are more stressed out than you are, trust me. Like when they say snakes are more afraid you than you are of them? Same goes for kids." He tells her, a bit of a smirk on his face and he means it with his full heart.
He figured she sensed that; a wave of calmness created a bubble over her.
The woman gives him a smile again, nodding her head at his words as she studies the stapler like it's the most important artifact on the planet.
"Yeah– yeah, you're right," she smiles back at him, her eyes laying on him and wonders why her heart races a bit faster, "Thanks, again."
Without another word, she's heading back towards the door to her own room. The man can see through the door clearly, watching as she unfolds the stapler to attach a few posters to the wall.
He senses a strange feeling, but he blames it on the heat. The air conditioning hadn't been properly turned on yet in the building, and the black jeans he chose this morning were already causing a bit of an issue when it came to sweating.
We all knew it wasn't summer heat he was feeling– no, it was more than that.
It was a feeling he'd never had before, a feeling he wouldn't be able to pinpoint on a map if given the opportunity. It felt bigger than life itself, stronger than most currents. Most writers couldn't identify it, poets had trouble putting it into words.
The man shook his head, draining the idea from it.
It was impossible, he thought. How could one look be all it took?
In that moment, he grappled with the realization that love, perhaps, wasn't an elaborate fiction but a profound and unexpected reality that had chosen him as its reluctant believer.
On the opposite end, the woman had walked back across the hall to where her own classroom laid. The papers and the posters littering the room in a chaotic sense; it matched the imagery in her brain.
But her mouth was dry and her heart was beating in a way that she knew would be shocking to her doctors. She didn't want to turn back to look because she was afraid of what she'd find.
Instead, her eyes shut as she reached her desk chair again. Her radiant spirit, the nervous energy that hesitated further as she set the stapler down on the desk.
The stars did that, you know? They forced together atoms with a centripetal force great enough to spark the greatest stories ever told.
The smile that landed on both Noelle and Harry; both across the hall from one another, and both unaware of each other.
The smile is where this story begins, but it is certainly not how it ends.
— Kazuto stood at the door front of his new “home” for the next few years of college. A heavy yet flimsy cardboard box of his things rested in his arms along with a book bag that hung over is shoulder. He still had a few more things to move in, but the main concern of his was getting his computer secure first. The heavy desktop model would be a breeze to set up, so he wasn’t worried much of his other luggage waiting outside. It wouldn’t be waiting long.
After a light knock, the dark-haired teen opened the door with his key to get in. Upon looking around the room, he noticed not a soul was present, except for that of what seemed to be some kind of lizard. It was a bit of a lucky break for Kazuto being that he wasn’t looking forward to meeting his new roommate, especially now seeing their taste in pets....
Though with more thought on the subject, he knew they’d eventually meet and hopefully they could be acquaintances, or better yet, friends. But for now, Kazuto had “more important” things to focus on; unpacking all of his stuff. He quickly set up his desktop, of course still having to run maintenance on it, and finished bringing the rest of his belongings to the small dorm room.
Halfway through his unpacking, it was though he was distracted by the thought of sleep, and the newbie college student crashed in his bed for a long nap.
