You're Perfect To Me ➲ Marcel [on hold]

twelve ✔

   

   Marcel locked his bedroom door and sat on his bed, the springs groaning underneath him for the first time. He quirked up an eyebrow, bouncing himself on the bed to hear it again. He bit his lip, suddenly standing up; he didn't know why, but for some reason he had always pitied the furniture if it made any unusual sounds, he felt like it was going through pain (even though the idea was quite ridiculous). He hesitantly moved to the floor. He wasn't quite fond of the floor, but, hey, anything to keep the bed out of pain. Someone outta be happy and if it couldn't be him, then it should at least be the bed.

   He rested his head against the wall behind him. He was still expecting for Harry to kick the door and beat him up. It's been a while since Harry had yelled out at him, but still nothing had happened. He was scared to death right now, looking at the door and wincing. Harry could come in at any moment, despite the locked door that was supposed to be in the way of Harry pounding his fist into Marcel's face.

   After a few minutes of waiting, Marcel told himself that Harry wouldn't be coming, but a little part of him still denied it. Sure Harry wasn't coming now, but it was probably destined to happened and whether Marcel liked it or not, he couldn't hide forever and once he was out into the open again, Harry would take that as a chance to beat him into a pulp.

   Marcel pitied himself.

   His phone, that was quite cozy in his pocket (that lucky punk had nothing to worry about), buzzed and Marcel jumped up as a reflex. He calmed down when he realized that it was just his phone, but his heart remained beating fast. Someone sent him a text; it was probably Harry, it was probably a threatening message from Harry. He pressed a button on the phone and it lit up, saying on the front, One new message.

   Marcel nervously swiped the screen with his finger, unlocking it, and quickly tapping on the test messaging app. He tapped, once again, on the new message. His eyes scanned te message, identifying what it said.

From: Unknown Number

Hm, were you the one that took my clothes? You're clothes are pretty lame, you know. 

To: Marcel

   Yup, it was definitely Harry, but it wasn't a threatening text which got out a sigh of relief from Marcel.

   He turned off his phone; he decided not to answer the text message, not knowing what to respond with. Despite the safe text, he still had the "heebie jeebies" thanks to his current paranoid state.

   He heard the slam of the door, even though the person who had slammed it had probably not intended to make it so loud, and soon enough, Marcel raced to the window to make sure that it was the only person that had been in the same house at him, not some robber that was escaping from the house after a successful mission. Okay, it was official, it was his mom who had left.

   An idea sprung in his head but he shook his head. This idea involved going downstairs to the kitchen, but he still wasn't sure if Harry had left or not. He decided to risk it, though. If he wanted to become like Harry, he had to act like him too and since Harry wasn't afraid of anything, Marcel couldn't be afraid of anything. He inhaled, attempting to relax himself, and unlocked the door, deciding to run down to the kitchen. That was when he froze and no, it wasn't Harry. There were a pair of earrings on the counter, the one that he had given to Kate for once her birthdays. His heart broke into a million tiny pieces and he walked over to it to observe it. There was a note on it.

   I'm sorry, it said in neat writing, the kind of neat writing that Kate had.

   ~Flashback~

   Kate looked stunning, but it didn't shock Marcel; he was used to her being stunning.. Her hair was curled and he realized that she had added some blonde highlights to her hair. On her face, was light makeup. That was the first time that Kate had worn makeup. On her lips, she wore a huge grin, a genuine one, and frankly, Marcel thought that was the thing that made Kate the most beautiful at the moment. Not her hair, or clothing, or makeup, her smile."Marcel, you didn't have to do this!" The beautiful earrings that had cost 40 dollars had been placed in her hands and they were quite a sight to see, but it could never compare to the sight that was standing in front of Marcel.

   "No, it's your birthday. I saw them and I quickly thought of you." Marcel returned the smile. "I had to buy them for you."

   "Well, I love you for doing this," his heart fluttered. "I will always keep this, even when I'm really old. Just for you, I promise." she wrapped her pinky around his. When she did that, she actually meant it.

   ~End of Flashback~

   Marcel frowned down at them, ignoring the tears that were welling up in her eyes. What a good waste of money, he thought rudely. She didn't end up keeping that promise.

   He mentally kicked himself for being sad over such a stupid thing. Why would he even care? No reason, whatsoever.

   "I don't need this. Just throw it out so you won't have to be sad." he mumbled to himself and walked to the backyard, "Good." he said after he had thrown it.

   "I won't be having anymore memories of her, I want nothing to do with her."

   He knew he was going to regret that sometime.