Marcel (Marcel/Harry Styles)

Chapter 38

"The lead singer, Alex Turner, isn't really singing about being an actual vacuum cleaner", I explain. "Basically they're saying that I want to be with you, near you and breathing the same air as you", I explain without taking my eyes off the road. Grace seems to process what I just told her, and seems to like the song a bit more once she understands the deeper meaning behind the lyrics. In my peripheral vision I see her head fall back and her closing her eyes. She murmurs the lyrics to the chorus. I find myself smiling, because I quote enjoy the fact that we like the same music. To be honest, I would probably find it quite hard to date a girl who would blast crappy boyband music 24/7. Ugh, boybands.

"Can we listen to something else?" Grace asks as the car falls silent, as that is the last song on the album. I toss my phone over to her. Completely contrary to the ballad that had just finished, "Girls/Girls/Boys" starts.

"Panic! At the Disco?" Grace reads as the artist. "That's a weird name for a band, tell me about this band".

"Well, they're an American band. Their lead singer is called Brendon Urie, as he's hot as fuck in video for this song!"

Grace doesn't hesitate to slap my arm in a playful manner. I chuckle at her crossing her arms at me.

"Don't be jealous, babe."

"I'm not," she insists. "Just don't get jealous when I watch Brendon Urie being hot as fuck in the video, at least five times."

"You wouldn't dare?"

"Wouldn't I?" She challenges.

I don't really know how to respond to her comment, so I just focus on the road. I've realised I'm a lot more careful driving when Grace is in the car with me. If I would ever crash the car, and she got hurt - if the car wasn't able to kill me, I would probably do it myself.

"Do you know how to drive?" I ask her.

"Nope, never even sat on the driving side of the car."

"I can teach you," I smile. "Just don't suck too much."

"That's the first time I've heard a boy say that," she laughs.

I pull of the road, where it seems like there's nothing but thick forest. I notice Grace's puzzled face, but ignore it at jump out of the range rover.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" She asks. I shake my head in response.

We walk for about 10 minutes, through the trees. I dip under the branches and hold them away from her face as she passes me. At some point I pick her up and give her a piggyback ride. For a while, we resemble Edward and Bella from Twilight. The only difference being Edward is a lot stronger and can run a lot faster. And of course, Grace was a lot prettier than Bella. Come to think of it, we were nothing like Edward and Bella. Don't even ask me why I know this much about Twilight.

I let Grace off my back and covered her eyes with my hands. She giggled and became extremely giddy. I walked her through were she had to go and was very careful so she wouldn't trip.

"Ready?"

"Super duper ready!" She squeals. She is almost pealing my hands of her face when I finally let go.

"No exactly a murder scene," she jokes and I can't help but laugh. Instead of a murder scene there was a blanket, a picnic basket and one big warm fleece blanket. It is the same place as I called my refuge, the place where Grace and I met Peter a while ago. Though, this place was more secluded and not many people knew it was here. You had to walk trough a little bit of wood to get here. I know it was in the middle of winter, but England wasn't as cold this year.

"Nevertheless, I love it. Thank you, Marcel," she gushed and pecked my cheek. We walked over hand in hand, and I sat down first before pulling her into my lap. I draped the fleece over us, making Grace snuggle into me even tighter.

"What's in the basket?" She questioned. Once again, she was being the curious girl that I loved.

"Not much, sorry. Just two thermo bottles with hot coco," I say while shrugging. There is only so much you can do in the span of an hour. But, the small gestures are just as important as the big ones. It's the thought that counts.

We sip of the hot chocolate for a while not saying anything of importance, just small talk we would probably both forget once we got home. We comment on a few birds that haven't flown south yet, and how surprisingly warm it is for a British winter.

Hours fly by (we think). No of us are aware of what times it is, or how long we have been out here, but then again, the concept of time doesn't exist when we're together. We have been laying in each other's embrace, our limbs tangled in one another's. We are looking up the sky, even though it has no life in it. Neither does it have a sunset to fill the sky with beautiful colours.

"Tell me something true," Grace says after a long moment of silence.

"Something true?"

"Yeah."

I know a lot of things that are true.

"When we first met, I thought you were so interesting. Your life and the things you did. Your morals and traditions, of which many are similar to mine, were so interesting compared with mine. My life was so boring before you. I preformed the same routine every day, and I don't even think I noticed how bored I was of it before you. I guess that's why I now can take you out for a picnic in the winter. You've taught me that not planning ahead and being spontaneous is a good thing. For a long time I was considering if I was irregularly normal or you were abnormally irregular," I tell her without really looking at her. I just space out thinking about it. "Now, tell me something true."

"Something true?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not really good at stringing words together, like you are," she mutters, referring to my truth that was a pretty big speech, to be honest.

"That doesn't matter. Any truth, short or long, is still a truth. Wouldn't you agree?" I challenge her.

"I guess," she shrugs.

"Then tell me something true."

"I love you. That's my truth."

"That's a good truth," I point out. Instead of saying it back I lean over her and kiss her. I support my weight on my arm, while caressing her cheek with the other. Laying here with her makes me feel so happy. After crappy days with breakdowns and nightmares, it feels so good to be out in nature with her. My hand slips further down her side and gropes hungrily at her skin.

"Can I tell you another truth?" I ask after I detach my lips from hers. She nods.

"I'm tired of being good, let's be bad."

Grace smirks underneath me. I help her up and we gather our belongings. We throw everything in the car and I step on the pedal.

And then they go home and have sex woo

"Why did Niall have to be the gay one?" -- Because #Percel didn't happen, might as well let #Piall happen. Peter had to find someone.. sorry, not sorry tbh

ig / shagniall

shagniall ✌