It’s strange. The five months seemed to pass so slowly, and now—when they were only twenty-four hours away from home—time was going exceptionally slow.
She watches a bunch of trashy television shows, cries an awful lot but not sure what about, plays on Facebook, and eventually goes onto Twitter, smiling when she sees all the boys tweeted about her:
· zaynmalik @LivBeach We miss you squirt! Wish you were here with us. See you in fifteen-ish hours.
· Louis_Tomlinson @LivBeach Can’t wait to see my little sis for the first time in five months(: xoxo
· NiallOfficial @LivBeach Get to see my eating buddy soon! Get ready for some crazy stories Liv!
· Real_Liam_Payne @LivBeach Count down the hours, Liv. Count them down.
· Harry_Styles @LivBeach Miss you like crazy babe. Can’t wait to have you in my arms. I love you <3 xoxo
She slowly closes her laptop, and makes her way to her bedroom. She sets her alarm clock, and lies down on her purple bedspread. The last thing she remembers is closing her exhausted eyes….
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
She groggily gets out of bed, and looks at the time. 7:30pm—the boys’ flight would arrive in about hour. Most girls would spend the time getting all pretty and then be fashionably late to the airport.
But she’s not most girls.
She just spent five months without her five support systems, and that was the hardest thing she’s ever done.
She runs into the bathroom, throws on some deodorant and perfume—Falling in Love, let’s see Harry guess that one—brushes her teeth, and hesitates before throwing some eyeliner on her waterline and some waterproof mascara (because even though she doesn’t like it, she knows she’s going to shed a lot of tears and would rather not look like a raccoon). She pulls on her favorite black sweats, a red tank top, and one of Harry’s hoodies. She gathers her hair into a messy bun, slips on flip-flops, grabs her cell phone, keys and wallet, and rushes out of the door in record time.
It takes her forty-five minutes to get to the airport; another ten to park her car and run inside. Upon entering, she immediately knows which exit her boys will come out of (Damn fan girls).
She manages to get to the front of the line, but the security guard won’t let her pass.
“Why not?” She shouts at him, barely hearing her own voice over the screams.
“Safety,” The guard replies, obviously annoyed. He must have been asked the question multiple times.
I know them, she wants to shout, they’re my best friends!
But then again, the guard had probably also heard that a lot from delusional fans.
Then the screams got louder, and the security guard moved away from her to contain other fans. It’s at that moment she sees them.
They look utterly exhausted—wearing sweats and basketball shorts—and their hair sticks up at weird angles.
But there’s no denying it: they’re her boys.
Liam leads the group, smiling at the people who came to see them. His eyes pass over her once, before snapping back to her face. He lets out a genuine smile, and stops immediately. Louis runs into him, and Niall runs into him. Zayn rolls his eyes, and Harry—her Harry—looks down at his phone, waiting for it to vibrate. She lets out a laugh, while all the others go, “Aww!”
