Death of a Bachelor ✶ Marcel ✶

✶ T W O ✶

"Oh hey Marcel!" she blurts out hoping to sound casual but actually ends up yelling like a crazy person. A panicky warped smile tries to conceal the true mortification she is currently experiencing.

His shocked baby deer eyes remain shocked and baby deer-like behind his huge glasses.

"Funny meeting you here... in the hallway... of your house," she tries, nervously babbling on as she rarely does.

A slow look of concern overtakes his face as Veronica's panicking becomes increasingly obvious. "I'm just gonna go to my room, and we can pretend this never happened."

Marcel's words cause something mean and conceited click inside Veronica's mind, and she throws her hands on her hips obstinately. "Why? Do you not want it to happen?"

"No offence, but you're kind of rude to me on a daily basis, so no. Not really."

"But look at me," Veronica seriously states, motioning towards her being, complete with flowing hair, glowing skin, and long legs. She should be the object of his desires. He should be jerking off to her vacation pictures every night before bed. His breath should literally be taken away just standing this close to her. He should have already came in his pants— twice. It doesn't make any sense.

"But listen to you."

"Listen to you, asshole."

"I'm not going to bow down in complete devotion to you just because you're the first pretty girl to look my way," he sighs, pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

"Who says I'm even looking your way and also ha! You do think I'm pretty."

"Okay then stop trying to whore yourself off on me and go back to your little slumber party."

Veronica deflates, remembering what just happened. "I can't," she huffs pathetically, looking down at her lime green toenails.

Marcel fake pouts and mocks Veronica in a patronising tone. "Why? Are they being mean?"

Veronica feels angry tears start to well up in her eyes, but she keeps staring at the ground.

"How can you expect me to pity you when you're one of them?"

"I don't know," Veronica tries to snip at him. It comes out pathetic and weak, and that makes her want to cry even more. She's too busy wicking away her tears with her fingers so her mascara won't run to notice the look of sympathy cross the boy's face.

"Come on then."

Her head snaps up in surprise but she follows him anyway. His room is a floor higher than the rest of the house, and it doesn't have a door. The staircase leads directly into a large room, which was probably an attic at one point in time. The walls are white, but they're covered in posters of superheroes and framed comic books.

Veronica would never admit it to anyone, but it's not an accident that she always appears in her brother's room for some quality time when he's marathoning Marvel movies.

Her eyes move around the rest of the room. There's a standard desk with an expensive looking desktop, and an entertainment centre, complete with a flatscreen and several gaming systems, and two beanbags in front of it. His bed is in the farthest corner of the room. It's at least a king size, and the blankets are fluffy and white. It's honestly the most attractive thing Veronica has ever seen, especially after the night she's had.

"Why are you staring at my bed like that?"

Veronica bundles her thick, black hair up in hands and drops it behind her back, trying to seem casual like she wasn't just eyefucking a piece of furniture. "Like what?"