Marcel Styles

Next day, I wake up beside Marcel. I smile. His hair is curlier than last night, now that it's dry. His chest is bare, showing his tattoos. I know that beneath the covers, there's nothing.

My head rests on his hard chest, along with my palm. We didn't do anything, except for sleep, but my room can get seriously hot, so it lead from me being in bra and panties and him in boxers, to nothing.

I sigh, and shake the boy. "Marcel, school," I say. He opens his eyes, and smiles. "Well hello there, Sydney," he murmurs. I roll my eyes, and get up to get dressed. I feel Marcel's eyes on me as I do.

"Do you need clothes?" I ask. "Yeah," Marcel answers. "There's some in my brother's room. Probably tight shirts and jeans and Osiris', but it'll be something," I tell him as I pull on jeans. I already have bra and panties on. Marcel comes up from behind me, and presses against me. "Thought you wouldn't like me if I changed," he teases. I turn, and kiss him. "I said that to try to keep you you, but I do like this side of you," I say, and turn again to pick out a shirt. I hear Marcel go towards my brother's room.

When he returns, I'm still trying to decide. His hand shoots out in front of me, and snags a tight blue shirt. I lift my arms, giggling, and he slips it over my torso. It clings to the right curves, making me look really good.

"Jesusmaryandjoseph," Marcel breathes. I laugh, pull on socks, then my heeled hiking boots. I then turn to Marcel, and I'm shocked. Marcel has on a tight white T-shirt, and tight black jeans, with black Osiris'. His hair is being held back by an American flag bandana. Long story short: "Holy mother of Twinkies," I whisper. Marcel smiles widely. "Shall we?" He asks, holding out his arm. I link mine in his, grab our bags, and we leave to walk to school.

At school, people stare at Marcel. They have no clue who it is! He doesn't have his glasses on, and I know he has contacts. He's not wearing his usual clothes, and his ship tattoo is clear to see. Then, of course, his hair.

As I approach my locker, I see Dom. He takes one look at Marcel, and there's confusion on his face.

"The hell happened with you and Marcel? Who's this?" Dom hisses in my ear as I open my locker. I look at the boy. "I'm dating Marcel," I tell him. Dom glances at the boy behind me. "Then who's this?" He asks. I open my locker, put my bag in, and grab my choir folder. I slam my locker closed. "Marcel," I say, wrap my arm around his waist, and head for choir.

In class, the teacher looks at Marcel in surprise, then to me. "We have a new kid?" He asks. I laugh. "No, Mr. Red. It's Marcel," Marcel answers, and leads me to two open chairs. Everyone stares at him, and I notice his smirk as he holds my hand.

By lunch, I'm pissed. Girls have been ogling Marcel, girls who teased him before. I never teased him, just... Never... Really... Protected him, like I should've. He has the scar to prove it.

At lunch, I sit with Marcel at an empty table. We're soon joined by my friend, Katie. She sits on my right side, while Marcel is on my left, holding my hand in his strong, muscular hand. I think I'm swooning.

I laugh and joke with Katie, while Marcel stays in a light, comfortable silence. Finally, he tenses. I look over at the door, and see Dominic. He looks at Marcel, and his gaze darkens eerily. It sends chills up my spine, and I turn towards Marcel. I make him look at me, cupping his pale cheeks. "Do not worry about him, Marcel," I tell him, and kiss him lightly before turning back to Katie, returning my hand to Marcel's.

At the end of lunch, Marcel and I are are walking towards my locker, when Dom and his 'goons' step in front of us. Dominic doesn't take his eyes from Marcel. "Justin," he hisses, and Justin approaches me. Marcel positions himself between me and the football player. Justin grins, and in a flash of his arm, Marcel is on his knees in front of me, cupping his cheek. I scream, and Justin grabs me around the waist, pulling me back. Dominic and the other boy start kicking Marcel. Kids surround us, and I can hear Mr. Red yelling, trying to see what's going on.

By the time the teacher arrives, and pulls the boys off of Marcel, he's out of breath, and there's a gash over his eye from where his head got slammed into the ground. Justin lets me go, and I drop to my knees in front of Marcel. I cover my mouth with my hand, and tears slip down my face. Mr. Red and the Algebra teacher, Mr. Robinson, help Marcel up. I stand, and follow as they help him to the nurse.

About an hour later, I'm still in the office, waiting for Marcel. Since his parents are in a different state, they didn't call them. Marcel's nineteen, so they don't have to.

The principal suspended Dom and his friends. I'm glad. They're still in his office, saying their side of the story. Mr. Baker tried to talk to me, but I won't even look away from the nurse's door. Suddenly, Mr. Baker's door opens. Dom, Justin, and the other boy-Jared- come out, Dom looking proud, the other two embarrassed. Dom looks at me, and his expression darkens. I look back at the nurse's door.

Waiting for Marcel kills me. Justin is sitting a couple chairs away. He apparently wasn't suspended, just got detention. He glances at me every once in a while.

Finally, Marcel comes out. I jump up as he comes over to me. I hug him gently. He chuckles, and literally squeezes me to the point I can barely breathe. I look up at him, concern clearly etched on my face. "Marcel!" I whimper. His smile turns into a frown, and he hugs me again, gently this time.

"I'm okay, Sydney," he tells me. I look up at him again, and trace to bandage on his temple. "Bullshit," I murmur. He stares down at me, the softest expression I've ever seen in his green/gray eyes. "Really. I just needed to lay down. I tried to get Nurse Laura to let you in, but she said it wouldn't be good for me."

I feel the tears falling down my cheeks, and Marcel kisses them off. "Do not cry," he growls. Small sobs choke me, and he looks at me. "But you need to breathe," he says. "I can't!" I whisper. Marcel leads me over to a chair, and sits, pulling me astride him. "We're in the office, Marcel," I point out, pretty much using the rest of my breath. "Sydney, breathe," he orders. I squeeze my eyes shut, and allow a quick, deep breath in through my mouth. "Sydney," he growls. "If I breathe, I'll start hyperventilating," I tell him. He sighs, takes a deep breath, and presses his lips to mine. He blows the air in, but there's no need: I suck in a breath.

Marcel brings his face away, and looks up at me. "I love you," he murmurs. I smile, and kiss his forehead before pulling him up. "Let's go home," I say, and practically run home.

Back at my house, I make Marcel go straight to my room to sleep. I stay downstairs, and cry silently. Through the blur of tears, I try to watch Sherlock Holmes, with Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law. But, I can't see worth a crap.

Finally, I fall asleep. Last I saw, Sherlock had been punched in the nose by Watson. Hilarious.

I open my eyes, still sleepy. I'm in Marcel's arms as he carries me. I close my eyes as he sets me in bed. I feel him strip me to bra and panties, then get in himself. I move to his side, my cheek and hand on his chest, and fall back asleep.

In the morning, I wake up to cold sheets. I bolt upright, and search for Marcel around my room. No, this couldn't have all been a stupid dream! Could it?

I get up, and run downstairs. I run to the kitchen, and see him, in his boxers, standing over the stove. I release a sigh of relief, and Marcel looks up at me. He smiles, but it disappears as he sees my expression. "Sydney?" He murmurs, padding up to me. I launch myself into his arms, wrapping my arms and legs around him, and burying my face into the crook of his neck. Marcel chuckles, concerned, and walks to the living room. He sits, and keeps me astride him. I realize I'm shaking.

Marcel just rubs my back softly, cooing to me.

"I'm okay, you're okay, we're both fine," he murmurs. "I-I thought i-it w-was a d-d-dream!" I stammer. Marcel sighs, hugging me closer. "I'm sorry. I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed," he tells me, his voice rough. I lean back, and look at him. It's not your fault, Marcel. I just freaked a little," I murmur, and kiss him. He's hesitant, but responds after awhile.

After a while of kissing, Marcel breaks away. He picks me up as he stands, and sets me in my feet, then goes back to the stove. I follow, pouting.

I'm surprised when Marcel turns the stove off, and turns to me. He sees my pout, and almost stalks over to me. He grips my chin, and tips it up. He rubs his nose against the line of my jaw. "No pouting, Sydney," he murmurs. "You've had more than enough." I huff out a sigh, but gasp when Marcel picks me back up. I wrap my arms and legs around him again, and he walks upstairs, to my room.