"W-Why Did Y-You Help M-Me?"

Chapter 8

Once Marcel had collected himself from his small panic attack about the fact he has first hour with Zayn he grabbed his backpack and walked in the opposite direction of the classroom

He then started thinking of an excuse as to why he possibly going to be half an hour late (if he can actually managed to stay out that long that is)

And he would've kept panicking if it weren't for him bumping into something

Or someone

"Oops," Marcel exclaimed as he dropped his binder that he carried around to all his classes

The boy lifted his head up from staring at his shoes and showed a look of sympathy

"Hi?"

Then both boys were on the floor picking up the papers that had fallen out of the binder.

Marcel looked up at the stranger and it was when he was met with these big sapphire orbs, that he began to rethink everything he ever colored blue, because clearly it wasn't the perfect shade. No, it wasn't, because this shade of blue, staring back at him, was the perfect shade. Every picture of the sky, the ocean and any car Marcel ever colored from when he was five to little doodles he does now, in the back of his notebook, must be looked over and should be changed to the same shade of the blue abyss that stood in front of him. And then Marcel's cheeks were the perfect shade of pink when he realized exactly who this boy was.

"I'm s-sorry, I should've looked w-where I was g-going."

The boy kind of turned his head to the side, a small strand of hair falling from his hat.

"Where have I seen you before?"

The boy asked, starting to stand up now, Marcel mirroring his actions

Marcel felt his cheeks becoming an even darker shade, expecting the worse, and just then the boy cracked a smile. And if smiles could heal, his could've cured cancer and every broken heart out there.

"Oh that's right! You're that Marcel kid!"

His face then turned serious with realization, and the seriousness turned to anger.

The next thing Marcel knew he was being pressed against cold lockers and his button up shirt was being wrinkled by tiny fist

And as amazing as the situation might sound, it wasn't exactly ideal situation he wanted it to be in.

"You were with Niall that night! Were you the reason he left Zayn?! I swear to god if you tell me you even as so much touched Niall, I will knock your teeth in!"

Marcel was thinking a million things at once, a few of those thoughts were about the fact that the boy was wearing a grey sweater with the sleeves rolled up, showing the beautiful patterns permanently drawn on to his skin and ripped jean shorts with a hat that he wore backwards.

But of course how hot he looks has nothing to do about the fact a person tinier than him is practically lifting him from the ground.

"No! N-No! God, no, N-Niall is just my friend, h-he came to me after he b-broke up w-with Zayn!"

The boy then started setting Marcel back down on his own two feet.

"I swear to god, it's like they can never be together happily!"

"Happily," Marcel let out a small chuckle.

"What?"

"N-No it's just what y-you said, it reminded me of a song by this b-band I listen t-to," Marcel trailed off.