Losing Marcel || Harry Styles

Chapter 1

A/n Hiya guys, I'm gonna try and keep the authours note short and to the point.

This is my first fanfic, so basically.

Sorry if it's a bit potatoish at first.

If that makes sense

***

All I could hear was the loud noise of someone's fist crashing against my door. It was 5:30. Early as usual, he wasn't suppose to be here until 6, pm obviously, I couldn't be up at 6am. I walked down the stairs and shouted loud enough for the person at the door to hear

"I'm coming, calm the hell down!"

Now, let's just get this straight, I'm not famous, or rich, I'm just normal (if you could even consider me that) I was just and everyday girl, who goes to uni and works at the local cafe as a waitress on saturdays, and uses her spare time to eat ice cream and watch stupid chick flicks.

I've got long dark brown hair, naturally straight, all the way down to the bottom of my back. I had first dip dyed it blonde so long ago I can't temper when it was but I had to keep re-dying to keep the colour 'vivid'. I wasn't someone who you would call stunning, or beautiful, maybe 'pretty' at the most (if you could even consider me that).

I wasn't fat, but I wasn't skinny, I guess you could say I had curves in the right places, but I wasn't one to 'stay active' I just sat around all day, I would only walk when I had to walk around the house or to go to work.

I don't 'dress up' to go out, I just wear some trackies and a t-shirt. You might say I dress like a 'slob' or a 'tramp' but the way I describe it, I wouldn't blame you, but I assure you, I'm not a 'slob' or a 'tramp' or a 'slut' or anything like that.

So if you haven't already established that I can be girly at time and tom-boy at others then I guess I should point that out.

Anyways on with the story...

"Sorry, but your the one taking so long to open the door" he shouted through the door, loud enough for the neighbours to hear him.

I strolled slowly, taking as long as I could on purpose, just to piss off the boy on the other side of the door, he couldn't see me but he knew me too well.

"It's okay, it's not like there's a person waiting outside the door, take your god damn time!" he half shouted through the door, what did I tell you, he knows me too well not to know I was walking like a tortise.

I swung the door open and let my tutor in, yep you heard right, my tutor, well I guess you could call him my best friend, but mainly my tutor.

"Gosh Marcel, you don't have to scream so loud, you'll probably wake up the neighbours!"

"Yeah, your neighbours are sleeping at 6pm" He said, before laughing.

We both walked over to my living room, he sat down on the sofa, I had just noticed what he was wearing, just the usual 'formal' wear, not exactly formal but not what you would wear everyday, but Marcel did.

I slowly eyed him, up and down, trying to make him uncomfortable, and it was working, I fist pumped in my mind as I saw him gulp.

First I stared at his hair, neatly brushed back and gelled into position.

Then I inspected his eyes and glasses, his eyes were a green colour, I looked into then as if I was staring into his soul. He avoided my eye contact. His glasses were appropriate and suited him well, black, normal, not much to say about them.

Next, his shirt, just a plain shirt with a sleeveless sweater on top, red tie neatly tucked into his sweater, very smart looking and definitely not something I could wear everyday.

Next his trousers, just some black skinny jeans with a black belt. I know it might sound gay, a boy wearing skinny jeans, but trust me, it doesn't look gay, it looks quite good with his 'formal' clothing.

He cleared his throat after the awkward 5 minute silence in which I was making him feel uncomfortable.

"Is there any reason your doing that?" He asked loudly with his eyebrows raised.

"Well maybe......" I said dragging the e and the end.

"Can I ask why?" Marcel and his 'formal talk' which is just everyday speech for him.

I didn't respond, I just tapped my nose on the side twice before he gave me a suspicious look.

"Just come on, we need start your tuition, young lady" he said, smirking, knowing that I hate being called a 'young lady'.

"Don't call me young lady, I'm turning 18 in a months time"

"Well your still 17 now, so you are still classified as a 'young lady'" he said, air quoting young lady.

"Just shush" I said in defeat

*2 hours of algebra later*

"I don't see why the satan had to put the alphabet into maths, letters stay in english and numbers stay in maths, end of!" Well you have to agree with me, algebra was hard, and I don't see when your gonna use it in your god damn life anyway!

"Well, maybe you should research it"

"No! Research is boring"

"Why are you always on the internet then" he asked face slanted like an inquisitive puppy

"Because I have a social life"

"And I don't?"

"Nope" I said with a cheeky grin on my face

"You know what?"

"What?" I said tilting my head a little like a lost puppy

"We're not best friends" Marcel said. He sounded like a five year old out on the play ground. 'We're not best friends anymore! Go away'

"Explain?" I questioned.

"We hardly know each other. We can't be best friends" he said. He had a point... I think?

"We have to get to know each other then!" I stated sharply.

"How?"

"Okay, since you sounded like a five year old just then, let's play a game I used to play when I was five"

"Yeah?"

"Twenty questions" I said. I started laughing and expected Marcel to aswell, since it was such a stupid suggestion, but no. Marcel kinda just raised his eyebrows at me. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because twenty questions is a dumb game?" I said in a 'duh' tone.

"I want to play twenty questions!" He said, once again like a little kid.

"No"

"It was a good suggestion. So were playing twenty questi..." The front door slammed, cutting Marcel off.