Beware

Marcel's P.O.V : My hands were trembling with nervousness as I recalled the memory of what had just happened. That girl was so beautiful. My heart skipped a beat, continually, until Harry interrupted my thoughts, "You're really going to wear that?" He snapped, raising a brow. I looked down at my cardigan, "What's wrong with this? It's really bad-boy like, right?" I beamed, looking down at the design, beginning to trace the pattern with my finger. "No, now go see if I have any spare clothes in the truck. You wouldn't want to get your 'bad-boy' cardigan all dirty, would you?" I shook my head and began to rush inside. The house was so beautiful and big, I wish I had lived in a place like that. "Hey Marcel," A voice called from behind me. Craning my neck, I saw the girl from earlier, "Oh, h-hey," I smiled, scratching the back of my neck. "Y-You have a really nice h-house." My face was burning with a blush that I couldn't make vanish. "Thank you," She smiled. "Do you need something?" I bit my lip, looking down at my fumbling hands. "N-No, I got it. I was just going to go get a spare shirt." "What's wrong with the shirt you have now?" She chuckled, walking closer to me. She liked my sweater. I blushed even more, my face was probably purple. "Its cute on you," She smiled, tracing the pattern against my chest. As her finger traced the pattern, a warmth came over me. "Y-You're cuter," I stammered. She looked up at me and blushed, "Well, I try my best to look good in front of guys like you." Guys like me? What did she mean by that? I couldn't tell if it was a compliment or not and I was terrified.