YELLOW

PART 10

I woke up slowly, feeling as though my eyes were glued shut. Every time I tried to pry them open, they seemed to want to close even more.

"Bloody hell, this place is a right nightmare," the girl from the other side of the room muttered. I propped myself up and turned to see her by the window, phone in hand.

Rubbing my eyes, I stared at her in confusion. "Where did you get that?" I asked.

She turned around, flashed me a cheeky middle finger, then licked it before tucking her phone into her knickers. I thought I'd figured it out.

"You really ought to stop taking all those meds," she said nonchalantly, pretending nothing had happened as she plopped down on the bed and began examining her nails.

"You don't take your meds? I thought that was part of the deal here," I replied, still puzzled.

She glanced back at me, a smirk dancing on her lips, then hopped off the bed and sauntered over. Opening her mouth, she revealed a handful of pills that had been hidden away—God knows where.

I felt a mix of disgust and disbelief wash over me. "Like this? And what's rule number one?"

"Never throw them away," she said, her smirk growing wider. "Just slip them into someone else's food in the cafeteria."

"Why are you even here if you don't need help?" I asked, adjusting my shirt a bit.

"Who said I don't need help?" she shot back. "I do, but turning me into a zombie isn't the answer. There's a limit to what I can take, and pain needs to be felt in order to be processed."

I pressed my lips together, letting her words sink in. "And who hurt you?" I inquired as she turned to face me.

"Life," she replied, offering no further explanation.

"Let me guess," she continued, glancing at my Versace slippers by the bed. "You're some rich kid, throwing a tantrum because Daddy wouldn't buy you a yacht."

Her judgment stung, but I raised an eyebrow. I stood up, searching for my jacket. "You should never judge a book by its cover. And actually, you're wrong—it was a plane," I said with a smirk.

I felt her hand wrap around mine, a delicate grip that hinted at her excitement. It was her first time in a helicopter, and I couldn't help but think of her favourite movie, where a man joyfully flew his partner around. I wanted to recreate that magic for her.

As we drove to our destination, her hand tightened around mine, the anticipation building. I gently tied a blindfold around her eyes, eager to unveil the surprise. The whirring noise of the helicopter filled the air as we approached.

I moved behind her and whispered softly, "Happy anniversary, baby."

Olivia's eyes flew open wide as she took in the sight of the helicopter. I stood behind her, arms crossed behind my back, a grin spreading across my face as she turned to me and showered me with kisses.

"You're so not real," she murmured between kisses, her eyes sparkling with disbelief.

The sound of applause filled the air, pulling me from my blissful trance. A punch in the stomach jolted me back to reality.

"Oh, okay, so it worked. You're some weird guy; now I get why you're here," the girl said, breaking my moment.

I looked down into her eyes as she rolled them, then turned away, heading back toward her bed.

I didn't even know her name yet. I walked over to the table where my notebook lay, the pen resting beside it. They always said writing was therapeutic, and I was eager to embark on that journey.