It's Kinda Two Sided (Harry Styles fanfiction)

~five~

A/N: Hiiiii guys so here's another chapter. It's not long enough but i promise to upload 4 pages on the next chapter. If you all know i update 'Its kinda two Sided' every Monday and Friday :)

If you like a faster update than Monday, hit me up with votes and comments. It would really help me a lot. :)

Dedicating this chapter to the lovely Marsellly who continuously supports this fic. :)

Edited by lostindreamz

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Chapter 5

We walk through an opened, large mahogany door as Bree guides me inside her house and I have to hold back a gasp at the sight in front of me. The front living room is magnificently decorated with posh looking furniture; an enormous chandelier above my head dangling gracefully, a fireplace, extravagant paintings hanged in all the right places and beside it runs a beautiful carpeted staircase at the side leading to the upstairs floor. Everywhere and everything I look at seems to be worth millions and it scares me to death to even touch a thing. And then I realize that I'm wounded with blood stains on my face, my shirt all crinkled and un-tucked. First time I come to Bree's house and I look like a homeless guy from the streets. What will her parents think?

"Bree, where have you bee-" I hear a male voice calling out from somewhere and when I look in the direction I find myself staring at a guy who just got down from the staircase. He seems a bit older than me, muscular, well built body with piercing blue eyes that are just like Bree's. He basically looks like a guy version of Bree.

"Whoa!" he says scanning me up and down. "Did you just come from a charity or something this late at night?" he asks looking at Bree, his tone filled with humor

"Shut up Brandon!" Bree rolls her eyes before looking at me and introducing the chuckling guy standing in front of us. "Marcel, meet my older brother Brandon. Brandon, this is Marcel."

"Hey man," Brandon greets, flashing me a smile that looks similar to Bree's.

"Hi-ii," I choke out, trying to put up a smile as well. Looking away from her brother, Bree calls out "Grace" before guiding me to sit down on one of the white sofas that look like they must've cost a fortune. I grab her arm briskly yet gently, shaking my head.

"I can sit on the floor," I suggest, seeing how dirty I am, covered with blood and all. I can't endure staining this beautiful couch. The siblings eye me as if I am crazy and Brandon sniggers a laugh.

"The floor is for walking and the sofa is for sitting," he says, holding back his laughter. Bree scoffs at her brother and turns to me with a soft smile on her face.

"If you're worrying about staining the sofa, don't," she says, as if she'd read my mind earlier and pushes me back gently to sit down as a woman in her 50's, wearing a maid's outfit comes rushing toward us.

"You called, Miss Bree?" she asks.

"Please get the medical kit from upstairs," Bree tells her. I knew that Bree's rich, but what I did not expect is that even in her home she would be treated with respect.

The maid nods at her, disappearing into a different part of the house before she comes back again with a box of medical supplies in her hands and passes them to Bree.