Underneath the Stars (Max George FanFiction)

Chapter 22

Underneath the Stars

Chapter 22

The next morning I woke up to soft knocking on the door to the hotel room. I remembered where I was: in a hotel, still in Rhode Island, where my dad lived only a few miles away. Frightened, I got up off the couch and opened the door to see Max. "Morning love," he said, kissing my head and letting himself in the room. "We have to start getting ready, we need to leave in about 25 minutes."

I nodded and pulled my suitcase out. It didn't have much in it, I never actually brought much to college because I never did have much before I left. My mom forced me to take only the most necessary items, which meant I was never welcomed back into that house, though I didn't quite mind.

I pulled out jeans that came to my mid calf and a tshirt; going to the bathroom I got dressed and brushed my hair and teeth. "I'm ready," I whispered as I walked out and back to my suitcase.

Truth be told, I was absolutely terrified to go back to Manchester. I knew that anything could happen when I was there. My dad could even come and find me; I could commit suicide; I could die for no reason; Max and I could fight again; anything could happen and that scared me to death.

We left my hotel room and went down the hall to Max's. "I'll stay out here while you get your bag," I said as he went into his room getting his suitcase.

I stood in the hallway waiting for him to come back out. My eyes wandered up and down each end of the hallway. I looked down at my phone as it started vibrating with a phone call. My stomach felt like it sank to my feet and my chest felt like an elephant was standing on it. My dad was calling me. He found out that I left. "Shit," I mumbled.

Just then Max walked out of the room. "What's wrong?" He asked as we started walking down the hallway. I lifted my phone up, showing him the caller ID. "Just ignore him, you're sleeping," he said as we got in the elevator, going down to the lobby.

We got in a cab that brought us to the airport. The entire time I was absolutely terrified that my dad was somehow following us and would kill me when I got out of the cab. Max held my hand softly as we got out of the car and walked into the airport.

After we checked our bags and went through TSA, we had about an hour of waiting before we began boarding. Max and I got something small to eat and we sat eating it.

Both of us sat in an uncomfortable silence, neither of us talking. I hated this so much. Before everything changed we could both sit for hours talking about nonsense. Now neither of us could form a sentence when speaking to each other. I realized then that I was going to have to learn how to love all over again.

As we sat in silence, a familiar hand encased mine. My breath caught in my throat, just like the first time we ever touched. His hand fit perfectly in mine as his fingers laced with mine. I swallowed my breath and smiled at him, softly. For the first time since we both broke up and fought, I felt whole again. A simple gesture, that may mean nothing to him, made me feel so alive. His thumb aimlessly brushed over my hand as we sat there in the still of the silence. But now it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it was absolutely perfect.

After almost an hour of just sitting there, our hands in each other's hold, we began to board the plane. I had 10 hours to be with him, to just sit with him. 10 hours to memorize each and every breath he took. 10 hours to relearn the features of his face. 10 hours to just be with the love of my life, even if I was terrified to admit that he was.

The plane took off and soon we were floating in the early morning air, on our way to restarting us again. Max pulled the arm rest up and carefully wrapped his hand in mine. As he did so, butterflies started to fly around in my stomach. I had missed that feeling almost as much as I missed his hands in mine. The spaces between each of his fingers were meant for mine; his knuckles were for the pads of my fingers to brush over; the back of his hand was for my lips to gently kiss; the lines on the palm of his hands were for my eyes to memorize and implant in my mind.