Letters to Him

George Shelley, a 19 year old singer with big ambitions to be as big as the famous band, One Direction, is in a coma. His best friend, Arianna Tomlinson, was with him at the car crash. Arianna blames herself for it all, so she writes letters to George for when George wakes up, but Arianna isn't so sure about one thing; Will George ever wake up from his coma?


10. "All These Letters?"

"Hello BooAri!" George greeted to me as I entered his hospital room. "George!" I exclaimed, rushing over to him. "I missed you so much that it actually hurts," I whisper, hugging George. I let him go and sat down on the chair next to his bed, but George grabbed hold of my hand. "Stand up," he muttered, and I obeyed him, standing up. "I meant it when I said I love you. I love you," he murmured seductively, pulling me towards him on the hospital bed. I giggle nervously. "Wow, I l-lo-love you too," I stammer, gently pushing George and cuddling up to George. George sat up, grinning. He put one of his hands on my cheeks, and our lips crashed against each other's. George pulled away, "What are these pile of paper over there?" he asked, pointing to the pile of my letters to him. "Oh, uh, I wrote them for you while you was in a coma," I mumbled. George gestured to me to give them to him. I picked them up and plopped them onto George's lap. "Don't interrupt okay?" he says, smiling. I nod, grinning. He started to read out every letter, tears welling up in his eyes. "Arianna xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx" he finishes the last letter after a half a hour of reading out loud. "Wow. I kneeeeeeeeeeew iiiiiiit! Louis Tomlinson is your brother!" George jeered. I punched his arm playfully, laughing. Our lips crashed against each other's again. "Did you miss me?" George asks, his smile turning into a cheeky grin. "I did, so much!" I told him. "You know I'm not allowed out of bed right?" George asks, hugging me. "Yeah?" Ibreply, looking into his deep chocolate brown eyes. "I can't get down on one knee, but seeing that we have known each other for ages, and all that crap. So, will you be my Mrs Shelley?" George asks, tears rolling down his cheeks, "Oh my.... Yes I will! Yes! Yes! Yes for another million of times!" I squealt, hugging and kissing his cheeks. After five minutes of our cheek kissing session, I started poking his dimples. "Hey!" he complained, swatting my hand away. 


A/N You may think this is the end, but it isn't. Who will know? 

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