Meant To Be

Photograph

I want to stay in this daydream

Show you everything you can't see

I'm asking you to stay in this daydream

Stay in this daydream with me

- Daydream, from Four's fourth album, Already Gone

"Hi," I say, shy, hands tucked into the pockets of my coat.

It's not fair; every time I see Holland he's even more breathtaking. How is it possible for a person to get exponentially more attractive? It shouldn't be, but here's Holland, blond hair tucked into a hat, a blue scarf around his neck that matches his eyes. It's the next morning, and I still can't believe that this is real. I think part of me was worried that I'd wake up and this whole thing would be a dream.

"Hello, love," he says, and leans in to kiss me like this is just everyday, like this is just something we can have. I lean into the warmth of him, the steadiness that just makes me feel that instant connection that I felt on that beach all over again.

It's sort of reassuring to know that it wasn't just that day. That I'm not completely crazy. That it does just feel like this to be around him.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say. "I thought the jet lag was going to be worse, honestly - I think I was lucky, I don't know."

"I'm glad," he says, taking my hand. "I thought maybe we could walk to my place, meet my family?"

"Yeah," I say, even though I'm dying with nerves inside.

Holland must pick up on it, though, because he grips my hand a little tighter. "It's going to be fine," he says. "I promise, my mum and dad are going to love you. And yeah, my siblings are probably going to be brats, but that's just because their my younger siblings and they love to tease."

"Will you remind me of everyones name's and ages?" I ask, desperate. "Just so I kind of have some idea?"

"'Course," he says. "Okay, well, first there's Emily, she's 19, same as you. And then George is 17, and Alix is the baby, they're only 14."

I nod, processing all of that. "Nineteen, seventeen, and fourteen," I say. "It's not weird, that I'm the same age as your sister?"

"She's only two years younger than me," he says. "So no. Other than the fact that it makes me realize what boys are probably thinking about her, and that sort of makes me want to punch someone."

"Protective much?" I tease, tucking my arm through his.

"I've got a right to be," he grumbles. "All these boys these days, I mean she had this one boyfriend that I swear was into something shady..."

I laugh. "I'm sure she can make her own decisions," I say. "After all, if she's related to you she's gotta be tough."

"It's the Bellamy genes," he says. "Also, you know, growing up with three siblings you had to learn to stand up for yourself. And, you know, she was, god, fourteen when me and the lads really started to make it? So she learned to deal with people wanting things from her pretty quickly."

There's a sort of sad look on his face, and I lean into him. "Not your fault," I say. "And not something you should feel guilty for, people being shitty. I mean, I'm sure you've done a ton for them, right?"

"Yeah," he says. "It's just - sometimes, especially with the younger ones - especially with Alix - I just wish they'd had a chance at a bit of a normal childhood, you know? School's brutal enough without the extra attention, even if it isn't always negative."