"I'm not the boy you think I am." - Long Marcel/Harry

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Geography, the last lesson for this hot summer day. I let my chin rest in the palm of my hand as I stared at one of the many posters on the wall, while my teacher was telling something about the project we had to made in pairs of two.

“(YN) and Marcel, you have to make the project together.” My geography teacher said, not even bothering to ask if we even wanted to work together. I let out a sigh before I looked to my left, seeing the brown haired boy on the other side of the classroom. I took my bag with books and swung it over my shoulder, walking towards Marcel. 

"Hi," I mumbled as let my bag fall on the ground. I reached out to a chair which stood near Marcel's table. I placed myself on the chair and shuffled closer to the desk. "So, where do we start?" I asked, trying to be polite. I looked up to Marcel, his big, green eyes looking straight into mine. His brown glasses surrounded his eyes as his hair was seperated in two parts.

It was the first time I actually looked at him, looking how he really looked like. His light tanned skin combined perfectly with his pink, plump lips. His dark eyebrows were lightly knit together as I 'checked him out'. 

"Well," Marcel started as he looked into his book, "We can start with vulcano's, how does that sound to you?" He asked as he looked at me over the edge of his big glasses. I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't mind."

"Okay, so first we can write down how a vulcano arises, and then how it works. We can also make or draw a vulano," Marcel said as he looked back into his book, before he looked up to me, "I heard you're good in drawing?"

I heard his words, but I couldn't really listen. I scanned his face and realized how beautiful it actually was, but nothing more. Only his eyes and lips were pretty, that's all. I felt that my lips were slightly parted and that I was staring, I couldn't help it, even though a voice in my mind told me not to stare at him.

"(YN)?" I heard him say as he waved his hand in front of my face. I shook my head as I chuckled, "Sorry, what did you say?" "Well, we can make or draw a vulcano, and I heard you're good in drawing?" Marcel said, leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, which was covered by a beige blouse and a checkered gilet. I felt my cheeks burning up. "Well, I can't say those things about myse-"

I was cut off by the bell, and immediately Marcel pushed his chair backwards so he could stand up. He quickly gathered his stuff. "Okay class, the project has to be done next week, if you don't hand it in on time, your grade won't be that good." My teacher said as she clapped into her hands.

I stood up and got my bag from the ground before I looked up to Marcel. "I guess we have to work on it, you know, outside school." I said as I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my denim jeans. Marcel gave me a small nod before he looked away from me. "Maybe we can work on it now?" I suggested. "S-s-s-ure..." He stuttered. "We c-c-can go to my place? My p-p-parents aren't home this week, so we can work on it without other people around..." He said nervously as he scratched the back of his neck. I just nodding, not understanding why he was so nervous out of sudden.

"Wow it's so hot..." Marcel mumbled as we walked into his house. I chuckled before saying, "Yeah, but look what you wear." It was way too hot to wear long sleeves and a gilet over it. Marcel looked over his shoulder to me, his eyebrow raised. "What do you mean by that?" He groaned. I was surprised when I could hear a hint of anger in his voice. "Nothing." I spat, my tone a little bit harsh. I sat on one of the chairs in around the dinnertable as I watched Marcel unbuttoning his gilet.

"Why do you wear glasses?" I blurted out. Immediately I moved my hand on my lips. "Sorry, stupid question." I apologized. I expected Marcel to blush, look away or get angry, but he just chukled. "They're fake." He said as he looked back to me. "What?" I said, "They're fake?" He nodded. "But why do you wear them?" Marcel shrugged, "Then I look.. smarter I guess? I look like a nerd in school, so people just leave me alone, like I want to." He said, taking his glasses off and placing them on the table in front of me. I shook my head, "I don't understand?"

Marcel sighed as he walked up to me. "Nevermind, just forget what I just said okay? But the glasses are fake though. C'mon, let's go upstairs, I'll show you my room." Marcel said while taking my hand in his. He took my upstairs to his room. He let my hand go as he opened the door. 

His room was just another teenage boy room, simple. But there was one thing that caught my eye. "A punching ball?" I said as I walked up to it. "Yeah..." Marcel mumbled as he walked up to me again. "To practise." "Practise?" "Self defense." He said simply. "Really?" I wondered out loud, wow, this guy wasn't like I thought he was.

Marcel sighed and took my hand again, bringing me to his bed and sat us down. "Look (YN), I'm not the boy you think I am." He started and I chuckled, I already noticed he was different. "Listen." He spat, causing me to raise my eyebrows. "Okay okay," I apologized, "Go continue."

"Okay, so at first, maybe you should remember what I just said when we were downstairs. People think I'm the nerd, and okay, maybe I am because my grades are good. But I only act like one to cover myself up, the real me." He said before stopping for a few seconds. "Why aren't you yourself?" I whispered, hoping he wouldn't get mad because I spoke again. Marcel bit his lips, "Because... I'm not a good guy, (YN). Outside school I'm..." He stopped talking, like he was afraid to speak. "You are.. what?" I said, hoping he'd continue. "In school I'm a good guy, good grades, no problems with teachers, but outside school I'm just... let I say, a bad boy."

I had to hold back my laughter, "I don't believe that." "Then you don't." He spat back. "Can I see, or meet, the real you?" I asked. "Sure." He mumbled. "I'm Harry Styles, 19 years old, I have curly hair," He said as he ran his hand through his dark hair, "I don't wear glasses or these stupid clothes. I was born and raised at the wrong side of town, where drug traffickers are, people with guns, booze, they smoke weed, everything. I've used drugs before, and I used to smoke too, but now I don't smoke that much anymore. First I was on another school, outside town, but because of bad grades, they sent me away. I wanted to have a good future, so I had to get good grades, you know? That's why I actually 'changed' myself into Marcel, went to this school, and spend the time outside school and doing... other things, studying for tests. I still get into dangerous things, like fights. I have the punching ball to learn how to defend myself and to take my anger out."

I gulped. "Harry, is that your real name?" I asked before he nodded. "And, you get into fights?" Again, he nodded. "And you can get angry really fast?" He nodded. 

"And maybe there's another thing I have to tell you..." He whispered as he looked down to his lap, his fingers nervously fiddling with eachother. "Okay," I said, "Tell me."

Harry looked up, still looking away from me, and took a deep breath. "(YN), I know you for a few months, and when I saw you from the first time, I thought you were beautiful. In those months my feelings for you were getting stronger, even though I didn't want to, because I knew you would never like Marcel, and I bet you don't like Harry either..." He said, his voice cracking.

"You're in love with me?" I asked in disbelief, before he nodded. I felt my cheeks turning red. "That's cute." I whispered before kissing his cheek lightly. Harry's lips curved up in a small smile. "And I like your curls." I said as I pointed to his hair. 

"W-w-would you like to go on a date with me?" He stuttered after a long silence. I looked up to him and nodded, "Sure." His smile grew bigger. "Thanks." He said, causing me to smile too. "No problem, I'd love to meet the real Harry." Harry smiled as he wiped a strand of hair behind my ear, not breaking the eyecontact.

"Harry?" I asked as nerves flew through my whole body. "Yes, (YN)?" "Will you ever get angry at me?" Harry shook his head as a small smile was on his lips, "Of course not, how can anyone get mad at such a sweet girl like you?" His words caused me to blush again. "You're cute when you blush." He said. "No I'm not." I said with a giggle, hiding my cheeks in the palms of my hand. "Yes you are!" Harry said as he pushed me back, so I lay on his bed. "No." I fought back. Harry slowly hovered over me, his knees on each a side of my body and his fists were on each a side of my head. I sank further into the mattress as he leaned in. "Yes," He whispered, "You are cute, and please never hide your beautiful face again." He wrapped his fingers around my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face, before kissing my lips softly.

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