Love Is Blind (Marcel/Harry Fanfiction)

Love Is Blind

Chapter 1:

*Stephanie's POV*

Great. Camp. I stood back, far enough away from all the kids my age or younger, running around the campground. They were laughing, having fun with the other kids, getting set up in their cabins each person was going to stay in. They all looked quite happy to be here, just enjoying the sounds of nature and getting to hang around with their friends a few kids were allowed to invite. But not me. I was probably the only 'leftout' individual there. I had friends, a few friends actually, but their mom wasn't making them go to camp for two whole weeks, like my mom was.

My mom did tell me I could invite someone, and I did invite my best friend, Claire, but she was going to Paris in her first two weeks of summer. She was rich, but not me. My mother could barely afford this camp.

Maybe she was the only actual friend I had.

It's not that I was bullied, and I'm sure people would like me if they got to know me, but it's because I'm shy, and bad at making friends. The only reason I'm friends with Claire is because she came to me, and she's the only friend I really have.

I had more in the small town where I grew up in, but they were younger, and my neighbors.

Now I'm here at camp, with nobody to talk to.

I stood there, the sun beating down on me, my hair sticking to my neck from the horrible heat. I looked down at the tiny white card that was in my hand. Cabin 22. "Great," I sighed to myself, and started walking over towards the sign that read 'Cabins 1-40'. The paint on the sign was wearing off, and it wasn't the best looking camp ever. Probably more of the ones that didn't have enough money to fix up the place, but on the other hand, one of the ones my mom couldn't afford very well.

I headed over straight to Cabin 22. I wanted to find out who my roommates were, hopefully not some snobs, and not boys. No boys.

I pushed the old wooden door open with my hand, and saw a boy, sitting on the top bunk of the only bunk bed, unpacking his luggage. He looked down at me immediately when I walked in, and turned his head over to mine, his eyes locking through his glasses.

"Um, are you my roommate?" I asked, with a disappointed look on my face. I didn't want to share with a boy, why was this even allowed?

"U-u-m-m, yes-s," The boy said, adjusting his glasses to his face, and climbed down the ladder carefully, looking behind him to see if he was going to hit anything.

Once he reached the bottom, he came up to me like a gentleman, with his hand out. "I-'m, I'm Marcel. Who are you?" Marcel asked happily, shaking my hand lightly.

"Stephanie," I said, giving him a confused look.

The hand shaking went on for a few more seconds, which wasn't normally how long a handshake lasted, so I soon let go of his hand, and dragged my heavy luggage onto the bottom bunk.

"Your not like other people," Marcel said clearly, and I turned around to see his face looking right at me, standing on the wooden floor, with no expression. I stared at him expressionless too, and simply asked him, "What do you mean not like other people?"

"Your not being mean to me, at least yet, or saying how I look dorky in this diamond sweater," Marcel said to me, pointing to his sweater, that wasn't the greatest looking, and since it was 100 degrees out, I was starting to question myself about why he had long tan pants on, and the sweater. But he seemed happy when he told me that.

He stood there with his head tilted a little, and a cute smile that spread across his face.

"What? Wait, why would I make fun of you?" I asked him, adding in a small laugh at the end, to let him know that I wasn't that type. The type to be mean. "Well," Marcel started, "Most people when they see me, expect me to be an annoying...well, nerd. Most of the time when they see me in these outfits, they automatically judge me, without getting to know me. But you, you're not like that," Marcel finished, standing there like he was before, playing with his hands, smiling up at me, with his perfect straight teeth.

"Well I'm not like that Marcel," I told him, and I saw his face light up with joy, his emerald eyes glowing in the sun thy was coming in through the window.

"Thanks then," Marcel told me, and I smiled at him in return, starting to put some of my clothes in the drawers.

"Harry was going to swing by, to have a talk with you, or well, whoever my roommate was. But since your actually nice, he shouldn't have to right?" Marcel asked, his iPhone in his hands, his thumbs doing that little dance.

"Who's Harry?" I asked Marcel.

"Harry's my older brother," Marcel said, and smiled up at me.