Using Marcel

Eleven

I stepped into the shower and poured the shampoo into my hair, lathering it into the sticky, tanlged mess.

"Ain't it fun, livin' in the real world?" I sang as I conditioned. I wanted to leave hot water for Marcel too, so I made it quick.

As I left the shower, I draped a towel around my body, opening the door to see if Marcel was out there. I heard him walking upstairs, so I made a run for it and bolted for my closet. Just as I reached the door handle, my towel got caught and pulled right off of my body.

Oh...

I heard the doorknob turn, so I jumped into the closet and pulled the door shut. I sighed in relief.

"You can have the shower now!" I called out.

"Okay, thanks... I'm gonna' need clothes, by the way."

"Right, um of course. I'll get you some of Blaine's and we'll wash yours so you don't have to take my stupid brother's clothes home with you." I said, slipping on my under garments.

"Okay, thank you..." He repeated and I smiled to myself, satisfied with the evening so far.

I put on some sweatpants that Blaine gave me back when he was nice, and a brown spaghetti strap tank top with white horizontal stripes on it. I walked out of my closet and heard the shower running.

I knocked on the bathroom door; I needed to get my hair gel. "Hey, Marcel, are you in? I just need to grab something off of the counter."

"Erm yes, go ahead then." I opened the door and grabbed my hair pick and the gel, closing the door again behind me. I picked the knots out of my hair while galloping down the stairs, the white carpet of my livingroom welcoming my cold feet.

"Blaine, Marcel needs clothes. Do you have any old ones he can borrow for now?" I asked and he ignored me.

I marched over in front of the tele and put my hands on my hips, putting my weight on one foot.

He rolled his eyes, huffed, and walked upstairs. I followed him to his room. It had dark gray walls, and had posters of things like 'Black Veil Brides' and 'Sleeping With Sirens' and whatever. He had dark hardwood floors, and his bed frame was metal, with a black comforter. He had a dresser and a small bathroom, and a window that hid the stars with a dark gray curtain. His dresser was topped with little things like receipts, erasers, guitar picks that he didn't use because he sucked at music, and a picture frame.

Believe it or not, this was the first time I had been in his room for two years. He always pushed me out and closed the door, locking it

"Here." He handed me a pile of clothes, and pushed me out. 

I blinked a few times and walked back to my room, opening the door. Marcel was standing in my room with a towel around his waist, looking down at his phone; he didn't even know that I was there. I could see every muscle that you normally wouldn't've guessed was there. His hair was curly and probably smelled like roses, due to my shampoo... He had his glasses on and he looked so different; so... Intriguing.

I walked in, making my presence known. He looked up from his phone and smiled a bit as I handed him my brother's clothes. "There ya' go, I hope they fit alright; my brother's a fattie." I joked, my voice two octaves higher than normal.

He chuckled and nodded, walking to the bathroom.

Marcel emerged from the bathroom fully cothed, and I was sitting on the edge of my bed. I didn't notice him walk over and quietly lower himself onto the matress beside me until I felt the bed sink a little.

"Wanna go sit on the porch?" I asked and he slowly nodded, his wet dark curls bouncing as he did so.

He followed me outside and sat next to me on the swing, causing it to rock a little. I pulled my knees up to my chest and looked at him, noticing that he was watching me. "Why are you so afraid of my brother?" I asked.

"It's not a big deal."

"Yes, it is. I can't have you over like this if you're afraid to be around my brother. I at least have to know why," I said softly.

Marcel sighed, pushing his hair back out of his face. "I don't want to make things worse between the two of you. He used to bully me, too."

I cuckled dryly. "I'll never understand why people bully. They take somebody who doesn't hurt anyone and who minds themselves, and they shoot them down. Make them feel like crap." I said, shaking my head.

"But that's why people get bullied, right? Because... Because that's all that they're good for? Punching bags for others' emotions? If we weren't crap, then why would we be treated like that? Why else would people target us?" He asked, his voice cracking.

"You... Don't... Don't talk about yourself that way, Marcel." I turned my head away from him, looking at my fidgeting bare feet.

"But that's how it goes, isn't it? And then all of us who get beaten down.. We eventually break."

I looked over at him again, and he was staring off into space. I wondered what was running through his head. His curls blew gently to the side by the night-time breeze, making him look even more perfect.

"We all break eventually, Bella. And when we do, there's no turning back. Our pieces are so shattered that anybody who tries to fix us will cut themselves and get hurt." He said, turning to look at me, his eyes glossy. "I don't want that to be you."

Suddenly, it was like I wasn't in control of what I did. I leaned over and placed a hand on his cheek, connecting his lips to mine. Shivers travelled down my spine, and he actually did smell like roses. The shock wore off and Marcel was soon reacting. I felt weak in the knees, and probably would've melted Ito his arms if I wasn't sitting down already.

It was slow and sensual, and my mind went too blank to comprehend what I was even doing. I felt his smooth skin under my hand, and his arm around my waist. 

"Awe!" Someone cooed, causing Marcel and I to jump back away from each other. I turned to see Violette standing on my porch, hers lips curled up into a smile.