I couldn’t think of what to say. I wanted to say something that would make him afraid to pick a fight with me, but I couldn’t think what that might be.
I took a punch at him but he was ready for it and blocked it. He grabbed my braid and jerk down on it. “Nice try, Babe. But you missed. Missed by a mile.”
“I didn’t,” I said, tears were about to fell in my cheeks. “You’re going to get in big trouble, Zayn Malik.”
“I don’t think so, Babe.” He grinned and acted to kiss me when a heavy punch landed on his face from nowhere.
I looked at the man who did it. He’s wearing a v-neck plain white shirt, skinny trousers, and red converse. He’s face was like an angel; perfect nose, kissable lips, green eyes and curly hair. He looks absolutely hot.
Who is this man? He looks a bit familiar. He looks like... Marcel?
No. He can’t be Marcel. He doesn’t even have the courage to punch Zayn like that. And he don’t dress anything like this guy, he doesn’t have curly hair either. Marcel’s hair was always waxed straight, brushed on one side.
Zayn and his friends all went off when a professor walked through.
“T-thank you,” I acknowledged the guy who saved me. He just smiled and quickly went away.
His smile. Those dimples. He really does look like Marcel. But I know it’s not him. Marcel’s a coward nerd guy who always stutters when Zayn is on the way. He can’t probably touch nor punch him either. But who’s that guy anyway?
YOU ARE READING
HARCEL
FanfictionAll nineteen year-old Harry Styles wanted was a private steady life in spite of his career being the lead vocalist in his own band White Eskimos. That's exactly what he got before his father pressed him to continue his college studies. But because o...
