Using Marcel

Eight

I woke up with a pounding headache and a fuzzy memory.

I realized that I wasn't in my own bed, and slowly sat up, resting my hand on my forehead. As I slowly looked around the room, I saw notebooks everywhere, posters of bands I didn't know hung on the walls, and leaning against a wall was Edward.

As soon as my eyes fell on him, I jumped in surprise, bringing my hand up to my chest. 

"Sorry," he chuckled, pushing himself off the wall.

"Wait- am I... Am I in your room?" I asked, the pain in my head intensifying.

"No, you're in Marcel's." He laughed, and I sighed.

"How did I get here?"

"Marcel brought you back in your car, your friend is on the couch." 

"Oh. Do you have-"

"Asprin?" He cut me off, and I nodded. He gave me a glass of water and a pill which I graciously took. "Well, I'm gonna go make sure your friend isn't making out with other appliances."

"Wait- how are you not hung over?" I asked in disbelief.

"I don't drink." he said, winking before he left the room.

Stupid.

I grabbed my sweatshirt that Marcel must've grabbed from the party last night, and stood up. I ran my hands down my face, probably spreading the lingering make-up around. 

I found my way out of the room, only to meet Marcel in the hall.

"Hey," he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "How're you feeling?"

"Like satan just ran me over with a brick truck."

"I-I hope it's okay that I brought you back here. You fell asleep, and I figured your mother wouldn't appreciate me bringing you home drunk."

"Thanks, Marcel."

He smiled that stunning smile of his, that only a select amount of people got to see. Whenever I did see it, it only reminded me of how badly I was treating him while he didn't even have a clue. At the same time, his smile brought butterflies to my stomach- the good kind.

"So, are you hungry?" He asked, and I put a hand to my stomach.

"God, yes. I'm starving." He laughed a little, gesturing for me to follow him. He had on his sweats, and a plain white T-shirt. His glasses were still on and his hair was just like always, but he still looked cute in a way.

I followed him to the kitchen, where Louis was holding his head at the table.

"Hey, Lou." I sat next to him and he looked up, dark half-moons under his eyes.

"How much did I frickin' drink last night?" He asked, and I chuckled.

"No clue, but you were flirting with a lamp pretty hardcore."

"Oh God..."

"You two are actually funny when you're drunk." Edward stated, giving us food.

"Thanks. For the food, not the half-compliment."

I picked at my nails for while in utter silence. "So I'm guessing parties still aren't your thing, huh, Marcel?"

"No, not really."

---------------------------------

"Well it's about time you got home..." Blaine said, walking into the kitchen. "How was the party?"