Fade {Harry Styles}

chapter 14

Marcel nudged Kelsey’s shoulder with his own in order to get her attention. He offered her a lopsided grin with a side of dimple before stating. “I’m such a good person.” 

Kelsey’s scoff of disbelief came from the back of her throat and her eyes rolled so far they could have almost rolled clear out of her skull.

"Excuse yourself. You really did not just say that."

Marcel tugged on his jacket slyly and shot Kelsey a feckless look of hurt. “What do you mean, my dear?” He asked with a high clarity tone of sarcasm. “Am I not the most astonishing and tremendous being you will ever cross paths with? You, darling, are lucky to be in my company.”

"So you giving in to see a romantic comedy suddenly makes you a Saint." Kelsey raised one eyebrow. Marcel clutched his chest, a gesture that made it seem as if he were genuinely touched by her all but complimentary statement. "Why yes."

"So does that make me a God for putting up with you?"

Marcel’s cracked, allowing a small smile to appear on his crimsoned cheeks, but swiped it away quickly before Kelsey could catch a glimpse of the happiness she brought him.

"Oh, if only you met the criteria for an other worldly and robust creature that walks among the stars." He insinuated. "What a shame."

"Are you discretely implying that I have neither the beauty nor power to be a God?" Kelsey faked an expression of offense; placing a hand on her chest and a frown on her lips.

"Yes. That is exactly what I’m implying."

Kelsey’s fake frown deepened as well as her “pained” expression. 

"My love," Marcel began in a far too dramatic voice. "Your power and beauty do not compare to those of a God. In fact, your predominant power makes the Gods tremble in their boots with utter fear, and your effulgent beauty puts the Goddesses mirrors to shame. You are the essence of another gorgeous creature no human being could fathom. So, I presume, you are not a God or even a Goddess. You are something even greater, if that was even possible."

Kelsey was caught of guard by Marcel’s mini speech, and quite frankly she was flattered. But his overly dramatic voice threw her off, and she brushed off his fulsome compliments as another joke.

"I guess you can be a Saint, then." Kelsey smiled.

Marcel, for what seemed to be the first time that entire night, turned his attention to large movie screen at the front of the theater just as the lights were dying slowly.

The pre-movie commercials began to roll, but Marcel’s mind was rambling. He didn’t even notice when the actual movie began to play. His mind was wandering too far into the caution zone. He was over thinking.

It had been since high school that he was at a movie theater with a girl, and he, honestly, had forgotten all his smooth moves that had earned him his infamous title as “ladies man”. Sure, he could pick up girls in clubs, bars, concerts, and even fancy restaurants a few times. But a movie date? It had been ages.

He couldn’t quite remember if he was fourteen at the time or if he was fifteen. He couldn’t even remember what the girl’s name was. Only that she was blonde and quite fit. He had slipped his arm around the back of her chair, and she had loved it.

Maybe Kelsey would too?

For the first time in a while, Marcel got a clench of nerves in his chest that zigzagged their way all the way down to the pit of his stomach where the fluttered every so often just to remind him that they were there. 

He had to do it though, some sort of move. Well, hell, Kelsey trudged to his room at two in the morning only to have a make-out session. Of course she wouldn’t mind his arm around her chair. 

So what did he do?

It was about twenty minutes into the movie when Marcel yawned. 

Of course, it wasn’t a real yaw, only one that gave him a reason to raise his arm. 

And then he stretched, very slowly and obviously. His long and lanky arm moved agonizingly slow until it was draped over the back of Kelsey’s chair. He had made it so obvious that it was comical, and Kelsey herself had to stiffle a giggle.

Marcel could feel his cheeks burning, something they never did, with shame. It was horrid. 

He wanted so badly to withdraw his hand so he could slap himself square across the face with it. 

Stupid, he thought to himself. That was so fucking stupid. You just made a fool of yourself.

His mind continued to fire brutal insult after brutal insult. Never could he remember a time where he had felt so foolish. 

Marcel was just about to draw his arm back to his side so he could sit and watch the rest of the movie in ever growing shame when Kelsey leaned down and gently placed her head on his shoulder and snuggled a little closer to him.

*    *    *

Marcel left Kelsey on the threshold of her apartment with a tiny kiss tingling her cheek. In all honesty, Marcel wanted to give off the mysterious vibe that would keep her around to see what he had in store next. That’s what his mind told him.

His heart, on the other hand, had a different interpretation of the feeling. He didn’t want to push her by going to fast for either to handle, and let the relationship slip from his grasp and go tumbling into hell.

He had made that mistake too many times, and he was finally deciding to learn the lesson.

In his relationships prior, he had let his lusts and sentiment lead him at full speed ahead into romance, and he would barely scratch the surface of what it could blossom into before the speed of it all would strike him with fear; and he would chicken out.

He didn’t want that again. Not this time.

What didn’t cross his mind was what he would do after he left to become Harry Styles again. He knew he shouldn’t have started any emotional attachments to the people he bonded with while in Minnesota, and a grave mistake it was to let Kelsey in. If only Marcel would have realized it at the time.

Instead, he walked the few steps from her door to his, feeling giddier than a drunk man. 

After the movie that Marcel hadn’t the slightest clue what it was about, the two had ventured over to Flapadoodles, the infamous ice cream parlor. And Marcel did what some might call “the girlfriend shit” where he talked with her. He simply…talked. About everything at once and then about nothing at all. Some guys made it clear that just having a conversation, a long conversation was girly. They wouldn’t even dream of doing such a thing, to them it was even unimaginable. Marcel used to be that type. The thought of talking made him want to gag. 

But he did it for her.

And he found himself indulged as well. 

He wanted to smile, to laugh, to scream from the rooftops only so he could voice his happiness because, in that one single moment, after all the craziness from the past few months, it felt like something was maybe, slightly, finally going in Marcel’s favor.

In that moment, he felt hope.

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Two updates in the same week! Sorry this chapter is so short, but I needed to upload something.  These next couple days are going to be quite busy for me so I don't think I will be writing for a while...I'm sorry! But please keep it up with the feedback and votes and stuff because it makes me really happy and want to make more time for writing for you guys. :) 

Alright, I'm done rambling now. :)

~Amy