You're Good at Looking at Me like I'm See Through

And I Won't be Leaving 'Til I Finish Stealing Every Piece of Your Heart

The next morning was not a good one for Marcel. Harry hadn't done the washing even though he'd reminded him exactly 72 times. A lot of his good clothes were in the hamper, and now he was stuck with one of Harry's vintage band shirts and slacks Gemma got him for her attempt at a makeover once. "C'mon Marcel," she had whined, "You don't have those legs and that arse for nothing. Show 'em off!" He swore he'd never wear them. Now look where he was.

Harry had also forgotten half the shopping list, so Marcel had none of his trusty gel, his hair already curling wildly. The only thing that made it better was the fact that Harry had also somehow forgotten the bananas. To make matters even worse, Marcel had stepped on his glasses which he'd had for years. He only had the thinner "fashionable" frames, also from Gemma's failed makeover, that she had got fitted with his lenses in the hope that he'd switch over. She insisted they made him look sophisticated, but he had never seen the appeal. On top of it all, his allergies had flared up, leaving his throat scratchy and making his voice sound like a garbage disposal, but lower somehow. Ridiculous. Harry's double take at how alike they now looked was pretty fun though.

Always a positive person, Marcel trooped on letting the good things buoy him through his day, regardless of the rough start. His day did get a whole lot brighter when he'd been assigned to a project with Niall in the class they shared. The teacher had saved the pairings and instructions for the end of the period, so Marcel didn't get a chance to talk to him until they'd bumped into each other in the hall.

"Hi! Marcel was it? Hadn't caught your name last time." Marcel fell in love with his soft giggle, which had overrode his confusion at "last time." "Guess we're honorary members of the odd name club."

"Yeah, my dad was on a French kick. We even lived in France for a few months, but I don't remember it."

"That's pretty cool! I, um, really like the glasses. They look..." Niall flushed at his own words and the word choices flitting through his head, but Marcel was too busy mentally freaking out about how close he was. Marcel felt something like huge moths flopping around in his belly as he looked at Niall. The rosy cheeks, soft-looking blonde hair, and that smile. Never one for too much small talk or picking up cues, Marcel went straight to the point. "So...I guess we're partners for the next two weeks. Wanna come over after school to get started? Also, I heard you're into space. 's that true?" Niall nodded to both questions, bottom lipped tuck between his teeth, lips curved into a slight smile.

"So maybe after, we could use my telescope if you want. I've got a Meade LX90-ACF." Niall's eyes lit up in excitement, lips parted as he let out a little breath. He'd never met someone as seriously into space as he was, and he was taken aback by the fact that Marcel clearly wasn't an amateur.

"Really? I'd love to. You aren't messing around then, are you. I happen to have the same one." Marcel smiled at him so brightly, Niall had to duck his head to control his blush. It was then that he remembered the sheets of paper clutched in his hands and groaned. "I can't, actually, I've got football tryouts right after school."

"I've lived in England for years, but I will always call it soccer." Niall playfully rolled his eyes at that. "And I could pick you up?"

"That'd be perfect. I'll text you when and where." They exchanged cells, each putting in their information. Immediately, Marcels phone vibrated with the text from Niall and he skimmed it before pocketing his phone and smiling at Niall. The two stood just like that, before the bell signaling for lunch rang, and they parted ways with a 'bye' each.