Outcast (Marcel)

Marcel is the school nerd. Katie is the school 'it girl'. What happens when these two worlds collide.. And one of them has a secret nobody can know about...?


9. Chapter Nine.

I wake up from a blissful sleep still cocooned in Harry's arms, I tilt my head up slightly to find him still asleep, snoring lightly. I watch intently as his eyelashes flutter and I realise for the first time how  beautifully long his eyelashes are, I never really took notice before now. He looks so innocent in sleep, it's almost impossible to believe that he is Harry Styles. Harry Styles. Harry Styles. I repeat the name in my head, a smile plastered across my face. I'm disrupted from my dream world when Harry begins to fidget beneath me. I turn to face him, he looks slightly less innocent now, his face scrunched into a tight ball, his corkscrew curls jumping around on his head and swears escaping his exhausted mouth. I can't help the giggles escaping my lips, I lie in a heap on top of him, eventually, his serious face crumbles and he begins to tickle and wrestle me. He, of course, wins our wrestling/tickling match and I end up pinned down on the bed, Harry lying on top of me. Our playful mood has turned intense as he leans in and kisses  me. Fireworks explode inside me, butterflies erupts and swarm throughout my body leaving a warm, tingling sensation behind them. I run a hand through his curly hair as his delicate fingers caress my cheeks. His touch sends shivers of pure joy running through me, I loose myself, my head fogs over with thoughts of Harry. Thoughts of yesterday, my dad, his scars, running away. Were we running away? Is this just a silly game? Will I go back? No, I wont. I'll stay here with Harry, we'll drive away into the sunset and never look back, we'll be as happy as we can be. Happy ever after.

I'm again brought out of my fantasy world by Harry's gentle touch, he kisses my neck and I let out a small moan, he chuckles into my neck, "Katie, I'm so glad you came with me yesterday." He makes out between kisses. "Me too." With that he begins  to undo the buttons on my top, the butterflies drop and the fire works die out, all replaced by sudden nerves. I'm not really sure what to do, I can't exactly object so I just go along. I'm afraid he'll kick me out, send me back to my dad if I don't. No, Harry wouldn't do that would he? I don't think so, no, no, no, no, he wouldn't I know it!

We're interrupted by a knock at the door, we both sigh, completely different sighs of course. Harry curses under his breath and I almost wish we'd carried on and there was no knock at the door because I really don't want to meet who's on the other side.

"It's Edward," Harry mutters, "I won't be a sec'" I sit anxiously almost expecting some girlfriend-killing axe murderer to come barging through the door and kill me in a second, but no. What really happens is Harry comes back in with almost a clone of himself except he has tattoos and a nose ring, he looks like the picture except now he looks more like a Goth's doodle pad. He has a snake tattoo winding up one arm and descending down the other, he has an extra piercing above his eyebrow.

"Alright, babe," he flirts.

"Edward!" Harry barks.

"Call me Ed," He says with a wink. "You've picked up a good one there, Harry, learned from the best, didn't you. How long will she last? A couple of days? I don't know, she's pretty, I'll have her once you've finished!" He smirks and slinks out of the room.

"Harry?" I ask, tears in my voice.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispers in shame, following his brother out of the room. I find myself almost blushing. What am I doing? I get so nervous, what did he mean, "how long will she last?". Oh, I've made a mistake, I should have gone home last night, I should never have followed Harry last night. I don't want to bite my nails because I've only just got out of that habit and don't want to start again. Instead I find myself chewing on the inside of my cheek. So hard, in fact that the metallic taste of blood invades my mouth. I cringe at the thought, the thought of blood, the thought of Harry, the thought of the mess I've made. Oh, help, what am I going to do?

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