Troyler is Real

Chapter 3: Dwelling On You

TYLER'S P.O.V.

I walked through the Perth airport, hoping Troye wouldn't show up, hoping he'd just read the note and stay home. We couldn't be together, not anymore, not with everything going down. 

Right as I was about to hand the flight attendant my boarding pass, I heard Troye call out.

 We had the saddest conversation, me basically telling him I no longer wanted him. I remember crying as soon as I turned my back away from him. I swore to myself that he was better off without me, that he'd be just fine...at least that's what I told myself at night to sleep. But then  I got the call from Zoe: Troye Sivan Mellet attempted suicide. My Troye. My Aussie.....my world.  My universe! He almost died, and I left him with hurtful words. He didn't deserve that, I just convinced myself that it was for the best, but honestly? I was terrified. But I can't waist one more second of my time knowing the love of my life is out there, depressed, hurt, almost fucking broken. Oh, hell no. That's why I'm on an airplane right now to go get back my bae, my cute little Troye. 

A COUPLE HOURS LATER...YA KNOW, CUZ HE WAS ON A AIRPLANE.....DUH.....

Oh, Lord I am so jet lagged, it's not even funny. But he's worth it. 

"Tyler Oakley, what the fuck?" a voice said as I walked out of the airport.

I spun around to find Zoella. "Well, hello to you too, biotch. Are you gonna give me a hug or are you gonna just stand there like an idiot?"

"Ooh, you are so lucky I love you," she said and gave me a hug.  We began to walk to her car. "Thanks for calling me. I was hoping you'd come around."

"Ya, I'm glad I called too. Is he..."

She put my bag in the trunk. "He's okay, I think. I hope. He's missed you. Honestly, I've been telling him to let you go, I never thought you'd come see him."

"Oh, I am just loving your enthusiasm, Zoella," I said sarcastically.

"Listen," she snapped, "you didn't give me much hope. So I'd appreciate it if you check your attitude at Troye's door. 'Kay?"

I nodded guiltily, keeping my head down as we drove to Troye's house. 

"We're here." Again, I nodded. "Hey," she said, lifting my chin up, "he'll be so happy to see you."

"I hope you're right, Zoe. I wish  that were true. But you and I both know he'll be pissed. Les-be-honest."

She looked at me sympathetically and got my bag, practically dragging me more than she was dragging the bag. "Come. On," she strained. "Get...to...the...fucking..." The door swung open, and Troye stepped out. "Oh, hello. We have invested in a really hot male stripper...that will be in stock for a week or two...or ten."

"Zoe!" I snapped. "Stop, let him...let him register this, okay?"

Tears rolled down his face. It was strange, when we were saying goodbye he was crying, now saying hello, he's crying. He never tore his eyes off of me. 

"Troye, I-" Before I could get the words out he ran over to me and jumped into my arms. 

He inhaled, and laughed softly. "T-Tilly, oh, my God, Tilly." He pulled away. "Tilly! I am so mad at you right now! You-you-"

"Missed you, Aussie," I finished for him. "I missed you. Oh, God, I missed you." I interlocked our hands. "I missed this."

He pulled away after a couple seconds. "No, you can't just come back into my life and expect me to just start kissing you and holding hands with you again. You hurt me. So bad, Matthew Tyler Oakley."

"Oh, okay full names now, Troye Sivan Mellet?" Zoe said.

"This isn't funny, Zoe!" Troye shouted. "He-he is vile, rude, savage, d-disgusting, awful, strange, a-and..." He sighed. "And I missed you. But-but this is going to take a while before we get to be friends again. Okay?"

"If you're willing to work at it, I'm sure Ty is," Zoe said.

"Zoe, why are you still talking?" Troye questioned playfully.

I sighed. "Troye, I'm s-"

"I can't...just yet. Not yet, I'm not ready for that yet."

I  nodded. "Okay. I understand."

He smiled mischievously. "Well, are you gonna stand there all day or are you coming in?" This time he grabbed my hand (and I am freaking out, my heart is beating fast, holy shit).