Marcel Imagines

You and Marcel Have A Fight

“Marcel, I’m sorry.” You whisper before going to the bedroom you shared. Pictures of you and him littered on the walls. One of you and him smiling and looking up into the camera as you ate your ice cream cones. There was another at your mother’s Christmas party standing by the tree.

But one picture caught your eye, it was the one on the table next to his side of the bed. It was a picture of you sitting on a rock by the ocean looking far away, but you had a happy, peaceful expression.

Why had you never noticed that he wasn’t in this picture? Had you just assumed it was the both of you?

You picked up the picture and held it in your shaking hands. This was the day when he asked you if you would always believe in him. You remember saying yes and rewarding him with a sweet kiss.

Y/n, you promised him you’d believe in him and look at what you have gone and done now.

 

He’s gone now. You’re alone.

 

You tossed the picture towards the wood floor. The glass cracked down the middle, breaking you in half. Exactly how you felt right now.

Instantly regretting throwing his picture of you to the ground you scooped it back up and hurriedly looked for another frame to put the picture in. There was a frame in the drawer of your table. You wanted to put a picture of you and Marcel in it, but you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

You took it out and slid you picture in it and placed it back on Marcel’s side hoping that he would come back.

He has too.

You feel confused and defeated, so you flop down on your side of the bed and curl up into a ball falling into a tearful sleep.

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Hours later you woke up to a still house, the sun shining brightly in the window.