"'S not a bad paper," he denies with a vigorous shake of his head.
                          
Your eyes avoid his as you close the paper and study the changing colors of the floor tiles as you walk. "I misread the situations, I guess," you add, lowering your voice so only he can hear you. "I don't need you to give me grades I didn't earn just because you told me the truth, okay?"
                          
"Y/N, I didn'-"
                          
"You definitely did. I did not deserve an A and you know it. It was bad enough-" 
                          
A frightened gasp leaves your lips as Harry swings you into the alcove of a doorway, pressing you against the cement wall. Your backpack digs into your flesh in all the wrong places. His hands find the curve of your jaw, minty breath ghosting over your chin as he rests his forehead on yours. He's waiting for you to push him away, to yell at him, but your fingers just twist around the ratty material of his old sweater and then his mouth is on yours.
                          
For a moment, all you can hear and feel is the hammering beat of your heart, racing against your ribcage. But then one of Harry's hands slips back into your hair and the other slides beneath your backpack, around your waist, pressing you to the front of him, and you're awake. You dip your fingers beneath his shirt, gripping at the soft flesh of his hips and anchoring yourself to him as you add a bit of pressure to the kiss.
                          
Harry's lips are mildly chapped, but still soft as they move against yours, his nose brushing your cheek. Those unruly curls tickling at your forehead, your body melds in his hold, pliable as putty. It's all too soon when he pulls away, puffing breaths over the side of your neck.
                          
"Didn' tell yeh the truth," he confesses around pulls for air. Your heart rate picks up even more, if that's possible, as Harry nuzzles beneath the line of your jaw and then presses a lingering kiss to your throat.
                          
"What do you mean?" You gasp, nails digging into his hips as his teeth graze your collarbone.
                          
"Wanted t'kiss yeh," he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, "since I walked yeh home tha' night."
                          
"Why did you lie?"
                          
"Because 'm not supposed t'wanna kiss yeh, love." Harry lifts his face to eye-level, where you can see the wild flush of his cheeks and his wet, blushing lips. You can't help the upward curl of your mouth. "'M supposed t'be your TA. Supposed t'help yeh with your work and grade your papers. Tha's it. And Glasser kept tellin' me it was a bad idea. I wasn'-"
                          
"You told Dr. Glasser?"
                          
"Can we talk 'bout tha' some other time?"
                          
Harry's mouth finds yours again and you let the thought slip away. Instead, you think of the tension that's floated on the air between you with every interaction, every touch of skin, or even flicker of a gaze. You can feel that same energy sizzling between the two of you now, crackling like a live wire.
                          
"Ouch," Harry mumbles against your lips, standing to his full height and twisting his head around. You peel your eyes open to find that the door to the classroom has opened, knocking into Harry's back as students begin to flee the space. A blush creeps into your cheeks and Harry nudges you further into the corner, out of sight, when a curious boy eyes the two of you on his way out. "Wha' great timing."
                          
You splutter out an airy laugh that has him turning back to look at you with brightening eyes. His arm slides out from behind you when there doesn't seem to be anyone else leaving, slipping his fingers into yours at his hip and dragging you through the open door. It shuts behind you and suddenly everything is quiet, serene.
                          
"Had a class in here m'sophomore year," Harry informs you with a brief sweep of the room. The blinds are drawn over the windows and a curtain hangs over the window of the door, leaving you with little light.