Louis
Louis pulls you into a quiet corner of the hallway, his hand resting gently on your back as his lips press against yours in a kiss that quickly deepens. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, making you forget where you even are.
You're lost in the moment until a loud voice cuts through the haze like a fire alarm.
"Mr. Tomlinson. Miss Bowersox."
You both spring apart to see Mr. Andrews, the notoriously strict history teacher, glaring at you with an expression that could curdle milk.
"What exactly do you think you're doing?" he barks, his gaze zeroing in on Louis's hand, which is still on your back.
Louis doesn't even flinch, giving his signature grin. "Uh, history project, sir. Recreating a famous kiss. Thought it might help me understand the material better."
Mr. Andrews's jaw tightens as he points a stern finger at the both of you. "Detention. Both of you. And if I ever catch you recreating anything again, you'll be studying history from the 1800s detention manuals."
As Mr. Andrews storms off, Louis leans in with a cheeky grin. "At least I was thorough in my research."
You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Louis!"
Harry
You're leaning against your locker, laughing at something Harry said when he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss that starts out soft but quickly deepens. His hand slips around to the small of your back, pulling you closer as your heart races.
You're so caught up in the kiss that you don't hear the footsteps until it's too late.
"Mr. Styles! Miss Bowersox!"
You jerk apart to see Mrs. Grayson, her math textbook clutched in one hand and a look of pure outrage on her face.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demands, glaring between you two. Her gaze lingers on Harry's hand on your back, and her expression somehow grows even more disapproving.
Harry clears his throat, a sheepish grin forming on his lips. "Just... uh... showing her how much I appreciate her... help in class?"
Mrs. Grayson's eyes narrow into slits. "Detention. Both of you. And if I ever catch you 'showing appreciation' again, you'll be writing a 10-page report on why math is far more important than romance!"
As she storms off, Harry chuckles and shrugs. "Worth it."
You smack his arm. "We're so dead."
Niall
Niall stops you in the middle of the hallway, his hand sliding to your back as he leans in for a kiss. It starts slow, but the moment deepens as his lips move against yours, pulling you closer.
You're completely unaware of your surroundings until a loud cough makes you break apart.
"Well, well, well."
You freeze, turning to see Coach Miller, the intimidating gym teacher, staring at you with a look of sheer disbelief.
"What do you two think you're doing?" he barks, his gaze flicking to Niall's hand, which is still on your back.
Niall steps forward, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh... team-building exercise?"
Coach Miller's glare could melt steel. "Detention. Both of you. And if I ever catch you being so... 'supportive' again, you'll be running laps for the rest of the semester!"
As soon as Coach Miller stomps off, Niall grins at you. "Well, at least it wasn't laps this time."
You groan, smacking his shoulder. "You're impossible!"
Liam
Liam pulls you aside backstage, his hand resting on your back as he leans down to kiss you. The kiss quickly deepens, and his other hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from your face.
You're so wrapped up in the moment that you don't hear the sharp clack of heels approaching.
"Mr. Payne! Miss Bowersox!"
You break apart in record time, turning to see Mrs. Carter, the terrifying theater teacher, glaring at you as if you've just ruined her entire production.
"What do you think you're doing?" she snaps, her eyes narrowing on Liam's hand still resting on your back.
Liam stammers, "Just, uh... getting into character, ma'am."
Mrs. Carter's nostrils flare. "Getting into character? For what? Romeo and Juliet: The Hallway Edition?"
You're too mortified to respond as she shakes her head. "Detention. Both of you. And if I ever catch you 'practicing' again, you'll be banned from the play!"
As you walk away, Liam gives you a sheepish smile. "Guess I got a little carried away."
You roll your eyes. "A little?!"
Zayn
Zayn pulls you into a quiet hallway corner, his hand sliding to your back as he kisses you. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours as the world around you fades away.
You're completely lost in the moment until a loud voice breaks through.
"Mr. Malik! Miss Bowersox!"
You jump apart to see Mr. Jenkins, the grumpy art teacher, glaring at you like you've just defaced school property.
"What do you think you're doing?" he growls, his eyes narrowing on Zayn's hand, which is still on your back.
Zayn shrugs, his trademark smirk appearing. "Just, uh... discussing art, sir. You know, the passion behind it."
Mr. Jenkins's face turns red. "Passion? Is that what they're calling it these days? Detention. Both of you. And if I ever catch you being so... passionate again, you'll be cleaning the art room for a month!"
As Mr. Jenkins storms off, Zayn chuckles, slipping his hand into yours. "Totally worth it."
You groan, shaking your head. "Why am I not surprised?"
