~Isabella's Pov: ~
I lie awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I'm so confused.
The cold shivers through my body. But I can't move. What do I do?
"Isabella, go get some rest, go on..." Niall pushes me out the door.
"But can't I- Shouldn't I-" My words stop at the slam of the door. My heart sinks. The chilly night air brushes against my skin. I should've grabbed my jacket.
Reaching my arm up, I prepare my small voice to knock and ask for it.
"Go home Isabella!" Niall shouts from the other side.
"I'll see you tomorrow Marcel..." I think to myself.
As the flashback ends I realize I should have stayed, begged, demanded them, that they let me see him. I miss him so much.
A cold chill spreads through my skin, flesh and soul, reminding me he won't be accompanying me tonight. Or any time soon.
The tears swell up in my eyes; The world is dead to me without him. I need to see him. I need to see him!
I jolt out of bed, still in my clothes from the day. I run out the door and sprint down the sidewalk, love blinding my rational senses. The early dawn cracks over the horizon. The cold morning air burns my lungs as I run with all my might. Seeing his house appear in the distance, I push my legs further, the adrenaline keeping them from falling off.
I will see him.
Choking down gulps of air, I stand at his door.
Ding dong.
The door bell chimes.
Ding dong.
I press the button again.
Ding dong- ding dong- ding dong!
I push the bell rapidly, signalling my urgency.
"Isabella?" Harry groggily answers the door. "Did you run here?" His raspy voice wakes up a little more.
"Where's Marcel? I need to see him." I push past.
"He's, erm, resting. He's resting." Harry calls after, rubbing his tired eyes.
Opening his door, I quietly step in. Shock rips the air from my lungs. Oh Marcel. Bruises and cuts pepper his body. Sitting on the bed beside him, I brush my hand on his cheek. A small grunt escapes him as his face contorts into a pained expression. I barely touched him, how could that hurt?
"M-my side..." He grumbles, shifting away from me and liftin his shirt. A gash reveals itself all stitched into his left side.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," I whisper.
"It's okay. Come lay with me?" His angelic voice not allowing me to refuse. I curl up next to him on his other side. "Will you sing to me?" He mumbles sweetly.
"I can't really sing," I admit.
"I want to hear you sing though, nobody else, just you." He says sleepily.
"Well what do I sing?" I ask. he doesn't reply as he drifts off, waiting for me to begin.
"I'm coming out of my cage and I've been doing just fine.
Gotta, gotta be down because I want it all.
It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this.
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.
Now I'm falling asleep and she's calling a cab, while he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag.
Now they're going to bed and my stomach is sick and it's all in my head.
But she touches his chest now, he takes off her dress now, let me go." I start, knowing he wouldn't object to Mr. Brightside.
Soon I hear his deep breathing and his soft, quiet snore. I close my eyes and drift off to dream about Mr. Marcel Styles.
