Beat Still

Chapter 27: Beat Still

I know I just updated, but I love you guys so much that I want to update again!

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*His Pov*

Present Time

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I don't even know why I started this. Or why I continue to do it. Maybe it was because I love him so much, or I didn't get closure in how things ended. Maybe I was concerned, confused, jealous of his new relationship, or even all three, but I couldn't stop my self.

Everywhere he went, I followed like a lost puppy. He transferred out of our common classes, and moved out of the dorms.

I didn't sleep, eat, or take care of myself. And I couldn't go to class, because then I would see Mar's empty seat.

All I could do was lay in bed, filling up page after page with drawings of Marcel. It was literally killing me to not see him! So...sometimes I followed him.

Not in the stalker way, but...Okay so it is creepy! But it was supposed to be a one time thing!

I was hoping that I would get the courage to just "bump into him" and rekindle everything. Instead I pathetically followed him around for like a month, always chickening out at the last minute.

I was filled with joy when I just happened to overhear at the frozen yogurt shop that Marcel was done with his boyfriend.

But the joy quickly turned to anger when I heard what happened with this Louis guy. Who was this asshole and why did he do those terrible things to my Mar-mar?

Look who's talking? You practically tried to rape the kid and now you're his stalker.

I know what I did brain, fuck you.

I need to apologize to him. Hopefully, he'll forgive me when I explain what really happened that night. Even if he doesn't want to be with me, I just want him in my life again.

I sound like such a pussy. But I'd rather sound like one while expressing my feelings, than act like one and not take any action at all.

That's how I found myself sitting on my black takashi motorcycle in Marcel's driveway.

That's also how I found my heavy footsteps pounding the pavement up to Marcel's front door.

And how I found myself hesitantly ringing the bell on said front door with sweaty palms and a face to match.

I slicked back my black quiff while waiting impatiently. I adjusted my leather jacket and glanced down at my familiar scuffed combat boots. I hoped I looked okay...

After a couple of moments and no answer I rung the doorbell again, and added a couple of forceful knocks. If he doesn't answer in five seconds I'm leaving.

1....Another readjustment of my jacket.

2....What if he's not home?

3....Wipe the sweat off of my face.

4....He's definitely home, remember to breathe.

4 1/2....Maybe I should just go.

5....One extra second for good luck?

6....

"Hi, how may I help....you."

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I know nothing about cars and/or motorcycles.