She // l.p.

1

“You love me?” She says it like she doesn’t already know.

“You haven’t given me a choice.” My fingers brush against her cheek and I wait for green eyes to peer up at me.

“Well I don’t love you.”

I shoot up out of my seat and I realize that it’s just that damn dream I’ve been having since Zayn told me she would be there at Niall’s this weekend. Night after night I’ve had this dream; it’d go something like this: We would be sitting in my car together in the middle of nowhere, no phone, no cameras, just us and she would be telling me all her fears and at the end of the list she’d say that she’s afraid I don’t really love her and I’d scoff, she’d question me, I’d answer her, and then everything would come tumbling down and she’d say those horrible four words and I’d wake up.

But it’s nothing but a dream and I won’t let it eat me alive. She still loves me, she promised me she would always and she’s never broken a promise to me yet. Maybe she doesn’t love me the way she used to, but I know that there’s a part of her heart that I touched that can’t be undone. I look around the plane; a few people’s eyes constantly glance at me – female eyes to be exact – and I think to myself that maybe I should get back on the saddle. But as soon as the thought passes I see her face and I’m knocked down a few notches. There’s no moving on from a woman like her. She was created simply to capture and fascinate people in her wake, once you’re in there’s no getting out – even if she wants you out.

People around me start to stand from their seats and I realize that we aren’t 35,000 feet in the air anymore. I follow along and snatch my bag from the overhead compartment, slinging it across my chest and pulling my hood over my head as I walk into the busy airport. I went through the private exit of the plane but I still have to make it to the main exit of the airport alive

Halfway through the airport I make it through without hitch, until I make the decision to stop at the small gift shop for a bag of chips. Apparently in that short amount of time I attracted the attention of several paparazzi. My hood is yanked over my head again and I step out the store with my hand up asking for distance. They stand back but that doesn’t make them any quieter.

I ignore the questions about her and I – I ignore any questions they have all together really and a small sigh of relief exits my mouth when there’s a taxi waiting for me outside the airport already. It’s been a while since I’ve been home. So long I forgot I even had my own place here. But I know that this is a place where she’s been as well and there’s a chance that she hasn’t taken any small things lining the inside of my flat.

My heart starts to race and the temperature sky rockets in the back seat of the taxi. I only live twenty minutes away from the airport and by the looks of it, we’re halfway there already. I shouldn’t but I’m hoping that she hasn’t checked herself into a hotel and that she’ll stay the weekend with me. She still has her own set of keys, so there’s a chance. By far one of the most ridiculous wishes I’ve ever had. But it’s no too ridiculous, there’s always a possibility. I know she hates hotels; she hates their wakeup calls and the whole check in process. That thought alone makes me wonder where she’s staying now. If she’s moved back in to that little house with the shitty stove or if she’s made a whole change around, moving into some fancy apartment with the money from her, apparently new, well-paying job with her friend Ryan.

The car makes a hard stop in front of my building and the word has spread about me being in town, I step out of the taxi with my bags in tow and politely shove my way through the crowd of cameras. “I’m just trying to go in and get some rest guys, I’m tired.” My voice has to yell and they all boo me.

“It’s six in the afternoon,” one of them shouts back over the sound of clicking and simultaneous flashing. With a shrug I step into my building and the silence of the lobby comforts me until I can my own unsteady heartbeat, looking down I swear I can see my ribcage struggling to hold my heart in.