Yellow Tape 2

Chapter one

Hello luvs! So, just to clarify: Brian=Harry, Chris=Zayn, Ley=Ley

Now, I hope you guys remember Yellow Tape 1, if not, you can get it on Amazon to refresh your memory! I hope you love this. Enjoy!!!

-vix

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Bittersweet was a way to describe many things. My Grandmother's apple pie was one of them, with how the sweetness of the apples was soon accompanied by the bitter taste of cinnamon. Going to university was another good example: opening a door for better and bigger things but leaving your family behind. I believed birthdays also belonged on that list. Although, it might've just been me. All the wishes, presents and parties sounded nice but on the other hand, you're getting older. Who actually wants to get older? Then, there was my example: sitting on a plane, on your way back to your routine life, but that wasn't even the bitter part. The bitter part was where you were leaving from. In my case, London.

   I hadn't been back there since I moved to New York with my parents; that'll be 6 years now. My family was most happy to see me, especially my mentioned Grandmother. All the whining and complaining about how I hadn't visited in the last 6 years stopped, as soon as we revealed the news to everyone. It was hardly a secret and if anything, I hated to make a big deal out of it, but he insisted on meeting my family back in London and surprising them, considering that he'd already met part of my family who lived in America.

   My auntie shed a tear and begged me to help with the preparations. Of course, I agreed. Although, I still hadn't decided whether to have the celebration in England or America; that was something to have a good think over. My cousin promised she'd find me the best makeup artist and hairdresser, she said that I wouldn't have to worry about anything at all when the day comes, but how could I not? After all, I was engaged.

   "How about this one?" My fiancé asked for the third time, making me roll my eyes at his persistence.

   "Chris, we don't even have a date yet." I chuckled, dismissing his question. He held his phone in his left hand, showing me yet another image of a suit.

   "Black is clearly old news. The navy has my name written all over it but...O! How about cream?" I glanced at him with raised eyebrows for a minute. We were barely engaged for a month, and he was already searching for the perfect suit to wear. For me, that was a little too overwhelming.

   "Oh baby, I'm just so happy to be your husband." Chris swiped at his phone, switching airplane mode on, before putting it away in his left pocket.

   "You're not my husband, yet." I blinked at him, feeling his arms wrapping around me. He planted a hard kiss on my cheek, then another and another.

   "Okay! Enough." I giggled. He stopped the kissing, keeping his arms still while I glanced at him for a second.

   "I can't wait to marry you." I told him, holding his gaze. His lips twitched up into a wide smile.

   "I love you, Ley." Chris declared, leaning in to give me a sweet kiss on the lips.

   The plane soon took off. I held onto Chris' hand for most of the flight, peering out of the window and awing at the fluffy, white clouds. The same shade of white as the dress I'll be wearing. It seemed that the thought made my smile falter, but I ignored it, shaking my head and attempting to get rid of the hesitant feeling weighing at the bottom of my stomach. I was happy. I was.

   We landed safely in NY and after retrieving our luggage, we took a taxi home. It was 5PM when we finally arrived at our door. A pile of letters on the floor welcomed us into our apartment. I crouched down to quickly pick up all our mail as Chris brought in the suitcases.

   "For you, for you, for you, for you...Ah, one for me." I chuckled, eyeing Chris as he removed his jacket and hung it upon a coatrack.

   "I'll deal with all of that tomorrow," he yawned. "This jet lag is real." I shone him a smile when he stepped towards me and wrapped his arms around my waist, giving my lips a kiss.

   "I'm going to bed." And another kiss.

   "I love you." And another kiss.

   "Love you." I replied. With a final kiss, Chris took himself away and disappeared into the bedroom.

   I sighed, removing my coat and hanging it up before grabbing the one letter that was addressed to me and taking myself into the kitchen. I sat down at the table, tearing open the envelope. The only reason I was curious to open the letter now, was because the writing on the front was undoubtedly done by hand. The A4 piece of paper slipped out of the envelope with ease, and I mindlessly unfolded the handwritten letter.

   Nothing could've prepared me for what I read. With each word, my breath became more and more shallow, my heartbeat accelerated, and my lips parted in disbelief and... shock. I put the letter down for a second, looking away from it, trying to slow my pacing mind. This couldn't be real. I thought to myself; trying to convince myself. How could this be?

   I took a deep breath, wiping my teary eyes before grabbing the letter and stuffing it back in the envelope it came in. I walked into the hallway, stepping toward the coatrack and hiding the letter away in the right pocket of my coat. I smoothed out my hair, tucking some loose strands behind my ears while I walked away from the coatrack and headed towards the bathroom.

   The words written in the letter played over and over in my head, only not in my own voice, but his:

You weren't ever supposed to meet me. I never wanted to see you again, but you drew me in. I hate you for that; I hate you for making me feel so fucking powerless without you. I'd like to say a list of your wrongs is a mile long, but it's not. However, mine is, so I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you met me, my love.

My love. My Ley.

-Brian