Light -Marcel Fanfiction-

Chapter Eleven

Over the next week, Marcel and I talk a lot and he takes me out again. Nothing interesting happens. Just a kiss. Not even tongue. I'm beginning to think he's mad at me.

Oh well.

A week after we had our first date, I pull on my combat boots over some leggings and a hoodie and grab my car keys, and head outside. I drive to Marcel's house, only I stop a block away, so his mum won't hear the car. It's about three in the morning. I climb up to his window and drop inside gracefully, landing on my toes and shit, then walk over to his bed and cover his mouth with my hand. Then I grab his shoulder and shake him awake. He groans into my hand and opens his eyes reluctantly, then gasps and his eyes widen. I press a finger to my lips, lean down, and whisper, "adventure. Be quiet, okay?" He nods once. And I take my hand off his mouth.

"What the heck are you doing here?" he whisper-screams.

"Get dressed," I whisper back, laughing.

"Where are we going?"

"I told you. An adventure. Lets go."

"I'm not wearing shoes! Or... clothes," he blushes furiously, I can see it even in the dark of his room. I smirk at him.

"I won't look, go," I sigh, and close my eyes. Kinda. I peek through my barely opened lashes as he awkwardly stands and stretches. Damn, the kid looks great in boxer briefs. Oh hot damn, wow. And his back muscles are amazing. Holy shit.

I let him pull on a pair of sweatpants he probably didn't know he had and a hoodie over some white Converse. Wow, you'd never even recognise him. He puts his glasses on last, for a a final touch.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" Because it's not like they've been open this whole time.

"Mm hmm," he hums.

"Okay. Hush," I whisper, and there is complete silence. I count to thirty and there is still no sound. "Your mum is still asleep. Lets go," I grin.

"Sneaking out?" he gasps.

"Yes, baby boy. C'mere, Marcel," I say. He shuffles over to me. I grab the strings on his hoodie and pull him down to me. "You're gonna have to be really, really quiet, okay? We don't want her to catch us, now do we?" I whisper, centimetres away from his face.

"I-I d-don't thi-think we sh-should be d-doing this," he says nervously.

"Hey, I'll have you back by six. Okay? And if she does catch us, I'll take all the blame and you won't get in trouble. You're twenty, though, you should be able to go where you want, when you want," I purr, my nose touching his. He's barely even breathing.

"Okay," he breathes. I smile and peck his cheek.

"Good boy." And then I pull him after me, swinging my legs over the window and lowering myself down before dropping to the ground. "C'mon," I call. Marcel nervously swings one of his long legs over the window, then the other, then drops to the ground. He winces and rubs his ankle.

"Ow," he mutters.

"Lets go, twinkle toes," I laugh, and help him up.

"Jocelyn, this isn't a good idea," he mumbles.

"Then why are you still following me?" I say, and climb into my car. Marcel huffs in exhasperation and gets in beside me. "Logical question. Do you trust me?"

"No," he says. He isn't lying.

"But you're in my car, and you're sneaking out with me," I giggle.

"I'm not gonna do anything illegal," he says.

"Me neither," I laugh. He looks relieved. "What, did you think I'm a bloodthirsty murderer or something?"