sixth form talk

Chapter One | They Don’t Know About Us

Here it is! The first chapter of an ongoing Marcel fic. I changed my mind several times over the week as to which perspective I should write this in before finally deciding third person would be best hence why the prologue got killed. I hope you enjoy it. I have the whole thing planned in my head and know where I’m taking it overall but if you have any ideas of flashbacks etc, then I’d welcome your thoughts x

September 2010

“Knock knock,” Marcel knocked on the door of his twin brother’s bedroom, “are you ready? We’ll be late.”

“Alright, alright, I’m ready.” Harry, dressed in his trademark black skinny jeans and black t-shirt, and beanie, pulled open the door, almost causing his brother to fall in. He stood in stark contrast to his younger twin who had chosen smart black trousers, a white shirt, finished with a beige sweater vest; Harry would say Marcel looked like he’d dressed himself in the dark while Marcel would say that Harry needed to smarten himself up for the new term.

Picking his bag from the floor, Harry gently turned his brother around by the shoulders to walk away from his bedroom and down the stairs, following slowly behind, more intrigued by whoever he was texting on his phone instead. Harry was very much a ladies’ man and had dated numerous girls in the year; he was one of those boys who everybody, even half the lads in the school, wanted to be with. There was no question that Harry was experienced with girls, especially as Marcel remembered when Harry came back from a party, barged in to his room and began explaining how he’d just had sex for the first time.

Marc, you have got to get yourself a girl. It was like, way better than a hand. Her mouth, she And to like, be inside a girl…

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It’s so weird when you see photos of your old best friends having fun and you’re just left wondering if they ever check up on you, check your social media and if they’re left feeling the same depressed way when they see your posts