Chapter 17

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London's POV: 

I turned frantically in my sleep ... it was warm and I felt exhausted. I could not sleep like that ...

I slowly opened my eyes and stared at the baby blue wall of my room. Irritated, I rubbed my eyes and furrowed my brow. The last thing I could remember was that I was in Marcel's arms and he took care of me. He really was a very good friend and I was pleased to hear that we were even more than this...we were best friends.

It may sound weird, but I was so delighted. He was the first friend in my life...Someone who really cared about me. Not like my parents, who didn't give a shit to look after me. The more I liked Marcel, the worse was the hatred towards my parents. He showed me how nice it could be to be liked and appreciated.

As soon as I sat up, I saw him taking a nap peacefully. He fell asleep on my office chair. I giggled softly, as I noticed that his glasses were askew placed on his nose. His left hand supported his head from the side, the back of my chair from behind. He had placed his long legs on the end of my bed. Had I been in Marcel's position, I would never have made ​​it that far. He was so tall, he could easily intimidate the boys in school, but unfortunately lacked the courage to actually do it. Or he just didn't want anyone to do something to suffer. As I know him, probably the latter. I was really lucky that I had someone like him.

And I didn't want to wake him up from his peaceful sleep. 

Harry's POV: 

'Marcel, I...I...' Her voice trailed off. 

'Shh...' I whispered and put my index finger on top of her soft lips. 'You don't need to explain, babe,' I chuckled deeply. 

...

Wait...what? Where am I? 

I woke up in a unknown room. No, wait...It was London's room. Sush, I totally forgot. I immediately turned my glasses back straight and sat down properly. But when I looked at London's bed, no one was in there. Where did she go? I hope she is doing well. Uncomfortable, I remembered some parts of my dream. I think I've never had a dream as cheesy as the one that night. Who dreams of shit like that? ... What has London probably been dreaming?

I stood up, walking into the hallway. It was just before ten, at least that was what the wall clock told me. I hesitantly knocked on the door of the bathroom, but I got no answer. Maybe she is under the shower? Or downstairs? Immediately, I jogged down the stairs and looked around the large, confusing building. Except in London's room, the living room and the bathroom I was still nowhere else in the house before.

 "London? Where are you?", I shouted.

First, I got no response, but after I called her a second time, her soft voice echoed through the big house.

"Marcel?"

"Where are you?"

"Here, in the kitchen!"

I followed her voice down the hall for pretty much the last door, which was ajar. Carefully, I stepped inside and saw London, already sitting at the high bar on a bar stool. She greeted me with a warm smile. I then noticed that she was eating. Nutella ...

"Wow, even when you're eating nutella, you're hot," I muttered and wanted to facepalm myself for that.

"What?" Shit!

"Nothing, I just said that I love nutella!" I tried to distract her and change the subject.

 "I, too!" Well done, Styles.

 El, shut up!

 "You wanna eat something?" she asked politely.

 "Yeah, can I have a banana?" Does that sound weird? Oh, God ...

 "Sure!" London immediately jumped down from the stool and walked over to the fridge

When she opened it, she bent down to open a separate compartment of fruits etc. I stared very noticeable at her bum. Her curves were very feminine and the tight jeans she wore, they didn't make it much easier to avert my gaze. Suddenly I noticed something moving in my pants... But...no ! No!

Shit, why now? No!

I had a morning wood. 

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