Only Love -CMBYN-

Chapter 1

Elio

My flight number is heard throughout the airport and I calmly but quickly rush to the gate with my backpack. I had already dropped off my luggage and rang Oliver so there was nothing left to worry about. Well, except I was going to see Oliver for the first time in 6 years in less than 12 hours. 

Every time his name rose to the forefront of my thoughts, I felt like my stomach would drop to the floor. All week my thoughts have been on him. I suddenly felt apprehensive and re-thought my entire decision to stay with him and his family. What the hell was I thinking? 

Not like I had much of a choice now, though. I sat down in my seat that thankfully had no one sitting nearby just yet. 

At least no one was about to witness the meltdown that was currently happening in row 12. 

If this all goes completely wrong, I'm blaming Oliver and my parents. It was their idea anyways when I decided I was going to America for College. After high school I took a few years off to learn more music writing techniques. I just finally had enough of staying in the same place all of the time. 

During a conversation with Oliver I had slipped in the fact that I was thinking of going to College there and since then my parents were set on the idea of shipping me off. 

Oliver seemed completely fine with the idea of me staying with his family for a few weeks while searching for a roommate and apartment in New York. To be quite honest, I'm incredibly surprised. We never mentioned that summer in our calls. Our contact was very irregular and I never knew when he would decide to call. 

When he did, I would curse myself for being way too excited. Why should I? It's not like he feels or felt the same way I did all those years ago. I hate the way I seem to always be the one that cares the most. I still can't say I'm over him completely, but a lot of those feelings of love that I felt have been replaced with an intense dislike and or occasionally hate. 

That phone call hurt me so fucking much, and I keep asking myself why he told me like that. He couldn't have told me during that summer that he could be possibly engaged in the near future? He couldn't tell me what he was dragging me into?

His stupidly beautiful self and that god damn smile. A smile that couldn't help but make me melt inside. 

I shouldn't still think of him like that, but I do.

The summer seems to replay over and over in my head every single time I think of him. That summer that's bittersweet and leaves an awful taste in my mouth these days.

But the last couple of years, whenever I think of him, he seems to get more blurry and distorted in my head. Whether it's my red hot rage, or the time that's passed that's the culprit, it still sends a dull ache to my chest. 

As I think once more of him, the bubbling fear in my chest seems to simmer away and I can finally breathe again. 

The plane lifts off a few minutes later and I notice that no one has taken the seats beside me. I secretly sigh with relief and relax. The hostess brings me food that I order and I eat while I try to wonder what his family will be like. He has a 4 year old daughter named Ellie and strangely I'm excited to meet her. A mini Oliver is sure to be adorable. 

I then begin to wonder what his wife will be like. Will she be welcoming? Has Oliver told her of the time we shared? Will she hate me if so? 

Last but not least, will Oliver still like me? Will he still like my personality or the many ways I have changed in these years? What if I dislike him? 

I laugh out loud and receive a few strange looks. Like I could ever dislike him, even after everything that happened.

So many questions seem to explode in my head like fireworks and it gives me an instant migrain. I groan and take a deep sigh while pulling out paracetamol from my bag. I chug a glass of water after downing two of them and rest my head against the window beside me. Anxiety seems to wash away in the sea below me as I look down.

Closing my eyes, I can hear the gentle whir of the engine and the noisy chatter of the people around me. Sleep drags me away from my surroundings and into more thoughts and questions, but at least I'm not concious to ponder them.

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I am pulled awake by the hostess walking by, telling me to put my seat belt on for landing. Instantly I feel sick to my stomach but do as she says anyways. 

The plane lands and the feeling will not go away. I bolt up from my seat and to the bathroom and throw up everything I had ate earlier on. I walk back out after rinsing my mouth out about 15 times, and eat a mint to try and urge the awful taste away. 

"Thank you." I mumble quietly to the people standing at the exit of the plane and step outside.

The cool air blows through my hair and I breathe deeply, trying to remember how to walk like a normal person, but staying in one seat for so long made it difficult. Therefore, I looked like I had drank a full bottle of vodka and swayed as I walked. I received my luggage and went to wait at the pick up area of the airport. 

The nerves seemed to build at an infinite amount, every step I took.

I came to a stop and gripped tightly onto the handles of the two suitcases either side of me. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and opened them once more. My breathing stopped as I scanned the crowd for Oliver.

Oliver. Oliver. Oliver.

It repeated over and over and over in my head as I squinted. 

Finally, my glance stopped on familiar pair of eyes that seemed to be staring back at mine. The eyes that I remembered clearly after all this time. The persons lips upturned into a smile that was engraved in my mind. My face mirrored his and I could somehow breathe again.

It was him.

The man that I could never not think about.

Oliver.

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Sooooooooo.

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