Subconsciously Loving You

Chapter 7

Marcel breathed heavily as he watched his brother and Louis. Oh god, he thought to himself, I was just making out with Harry's best friend.

Louis was breathing heavily, looking into Harry's eyes. Marcel himself was speechless, still panting and trying to regulate his breathing. His brother, on the other hand, was fuming and holding onto Louis' shirt. 

"How the fuck, or actually, why the fuck would you have done that?" he screamed, Marcel wincing at how loud his brother was. He closed his eyes and slowly laid on the bed, biting his swollen lips as he held the blankets closer. It was a good thing that the blanket was able to hide the fact that his bulge was showing. He didn't want his brother to see his boner. 

"You know how I feel about Marcel, Harry! You know! He knows! Damn, the whole fucking school knows!" 

"I knew, I fucking knew! But I told you, don't you remember? Fucking get it in your head that I don't mess around with my damn words!" 

Marcel just listened, still breathing heavily. He couldn't even open his eyes, too tired out from the earlier beatings and just kissing Louis. It all tired him out too easily; how pathetic it was for him to be so tired. 

Slowly, the screaming dulled out and he began to fall into a deep sleep, snoring gently.

* * * * * 

Marcel woke up hours later to the feeling of a wet cloth against his forehead. His eyes slowly opened, his arm raising as he rubbed his eyes. A small sound of a whimper was emitted from his mouth, confused as to what was happening.

Yet again, he knew. 

How he knew about the games Louis Tomlinson - fucking Louis Tomlinson - played was based off his brother and fuck, he hated it. He would play people in order to gain the things he wants and needs in life. The social ladder, as many call it. 

But why him? What importance does he bring to Louis, or better yet, the whole world? He was just a mere soul, resting inside a vessel that was indeed hiding from all the torment reality brought upon his horrible life. 

And yet, Louis chose him to play around with. 

It wasn't fair for him to be played with whilst Louis gains whatever he needed. Maybe that's why Harry was so pissed off at Louis, or maybe, Harry was just pissed off because he wasn't informed about the messing around. 

But that kiss meant something to him, made him feel. It brought excitement and colors into his shadowed life and if he can just get another taste of those lips to find the motivation and inspiration needed to keep going within his wounded vessel, he'd take the opportunity. 

Marcel sighed as all the words came flooding into his mindless brain, trying to comprehend as to why he began to feel like this when all that could have happened was him screaming at Louis and for his brother to not have found out. His mind was full of nothing comprehensible, nothing that was able for him to speak aloud and scream to the world his useless words. All that could ever come from his lips-

"Why?"

Marcel squinted towards his door and saw a figure standing there, leaning against the threshold. He quickly grabbed his glasses and put it on, seeing that it was Harry just standing there with an empty gaze. 

"Why'd you do it? Why did you have to lie to me about Louis and then have me catch you making out with him? Don't you realize how dangerous that is?" Harry asks with a raised voice, causing the younger brother to wince slightly. 

"I'm sorry. I-I didn't..I do-don't," he stammered until he was cut off. 

"Forget it. Louis won't ever be back and I'm sure you're happy as fuck about it. Or, are you disappointed that your little Romeo and Juliet secret was discovered?" Harry spat, rolling his eyes as he closed the door without another word to be spoken from Marcel. 

Marcel sniffled and closed his mouth, taking his glasses off and moved slowly to stare at the wall right next to him. He didn't realize what really happened until it really occurred to him in the evening. 

Did he just lose his brother, his only friend, to one simple mistake he made?

---

This is horrible, but it's what I can come up with right now. I'm sorry for being gone and I can't promise anything that I know I won't live up to. All I can really say is: Please forgive me.