Light -Marcel Fanfiction-

Chapter Twenty

Marcel confuses me. This boy is infuriating. He gives enough to kiss me against a wall, out of the blue, while we aren't even in a relationship of any kind, but he won't give me anything when I ask the reason a day later.

"What was up with that, Marcel?" I asked, at his flat again. He shrugs, toying with the buttons on his shirt. I sigh. "I'm not mad, hell no, I'm not mad. Just confused." God, I want to call him my baby again.

He shrugs again. "I missed you." My heart swells, stomach stirring. Nobody can get this response out of me, not with three little words. I shake my head at him.

"Marcel, you're so fucking adorable," I mumble. "Can't you see that?"

"I can't see anything but random text, these days," he frowns. "I look away from the manuscript and I still see letters." Marcel smiles at me, sheepishly.

"You're working too hard," I frown. He shakes his head.

"I'm grown up enough," he says. "I can handle it. They gave me a new office, it's really nice," he tells me. The thought of Marcel in a big leather chair, a large and polished desk in front of him, those big hands of his working at great speeds with a pen between his lips is enough to drive me crazy. I want him, I want him so bad.

"You're working, what, sixty hours a week? Then some?" I cross my arms. Marcel nods a little. I sigh and frown. He lets me wrap my arms around his neck and bring him into a hug, he hugs me back and I get the feeling he wanted it. Marcel sighs into my hair and nuzzles into the crook of my neck.

I laugh into his shoulder. "My god, you're so cute," I smile. He stands back upright, his face red. I grin at how I can still make him blush. He rubs his eyes, where sickly grey circles are beginning to border the dimming green eyes.

"You been sleeping well?" I frown, reaching up to run my thumb under one of his eyes. He shakes his head, lips pursed.

"Better, last night," he says. That makes me feel a little better, like I had something to do with how he slept. I step back closer to where he is and rest the side of my face on his chest, my left ear over his heart. Unless I was imagining it, the beat of his heart sped up with my contact. Normally I get responses from men by other things rising. Not pulses. God, he cares about me. He really does.

"I still feel bad," I whisper to him. "I wanna make it up to you."

He wraps his arms around my back, pressing his lips to my ear. "Another back rub would suffice," he whispers. I smile and nod against his neck.

"Want me to take my shirt off again?" I grin. Marcel blushes at the ground and shrugs. I arch my eyebrows. "Is that a yes, or a no?" I'm surprised he responded in any way other than blushing.

"What do you have on u-under that?" he asks, gesturing towards my hoodie. I'm shocked. Quickly, though, I recover.

"Don't remember. Wanna find out?" I purr. He wets his lips with his tongue. I remember perfectly well what I'm wearing underneath the hoodie. I had planned on going to the gym before my shift at the library. So I was simply wearing the faded black hoodie from Jason's gym, purple Nike running shorts, and tennis shoes, with a neon pink sports bra. I even remember that I was wearing one blue sock and one grey sock, because I couldn't find a matching pair.

His green eyes meet my own. In them I find just what I'm looking for: lust, longing, desire, and even a little greed. That's all I need. This is going to be fun.

..

Goodness, I want her. I want her so, so bad. Just her, she's the only thing I want right now. Not a raise, not a nicer flat, not better technology for work. Jocelyn. I want Jocelyn. All of her. That's all.