That Brunette And Me

Amelia just moved to Britain from a small town, after having a terrible relationship with a past boyfriend. She meets superstar Liam Payne, but can she get over heartbreak, the wrath of Directioners, and being in fame? Or will she break under the pressure?



68. My Life, My Love.

*Liam's POV*

"I love you so much, Liam."

Her voice was barely audible over the frantic yells of the flight attendants and the other passengers as she whispered to me, her eyes brimming with bright, new tears. My throat felt sticky and tight as I tried my best to reply, my bottom lip trembling immensely.

"I love you Amelia."

She smiled, forming little dimples on her cheeks and chin, before she laid back in her seat. The whole world seemed to stop, and everything was eerily silent as her eyes fluttered shut, and this time, they didn't open.

And we still had one and a half hours before we landed.

Shock pulsed through my body as Elle shoved past me and prodded Amelia gently on the arm, screaming bloody murder at her. The words coming out of her mouth were practically identical to mine: No, this isn't how it's supposed to be!

It's not supposed to end like this, and we weren't supposed to end like this! I needed her, because without her I was lost, and my heart seemed to lose its beat. I couldn't comprehend that it actually happened. I didn't dare to check her pulse, afraid to what I might find. I didn't want to know if-

No. I couldn't afford to think that way. I had to keep my head up, like she told me to. I had to, for her. If hope was the last thing I had, so be it. I'd rather have her back then any amount of money, and any famous title I had to my name. I was nothing without Amelia Harding. She was my dear, my darling, my dearie, my life and my love.

And I was her honeybuns, her buttercup, her bub.

I couldn't lose that, and I couldn't lose her.

I felt awareness pour back into me like a pitcher of water as I started to see the people hustling around me, trying to reach over me and get to Amelia. I grabbed her hand, feeling for any pulse, any pulse at all. My trembling hands only became more frantic when no beating was found on her limp wrist, and my heart stuttered to a complete stop.

Then I felt the same surge of disbelief and hope flutter into my throat, drifting to my heart. I couldn't give up, this couldn't just be the end. It didn't feel right.

Instead of trying her wrist for a pulse, I felt around her neck, my whole palm cradling her head.

That's when I felt it. I felt the light come back to me, and my heart seemed to race twice as fast.

I felt the pulse, and I knew that it wasn't done. I had a life to live, and it wasn't going to be without my Ames. I couldn't handle that if it was so, and I couldn't break that promise. I didn't know if I would've been able to keep the bloody promise, anyhow.

"Excuse me, sir, but," a flight attendant awkwardly stared me down, confused at my peaceful expression. "I'm going to have to ask you to move, a doctor would like to check for a pulse."

"There's a pulse." I replied, but complied to her proposition anyways. I wasn't taking any chances with this, because right now, even with that movement inside of me, that movement of hope, there was always that small fraction doubting myself. That small fraction that told me 'That's impossible; love isn't capable of saving one's life!'

But at this specific moment, I felt that anything was possible. I knew it was possible that Amelia was going to be fine, and I knew it was possible that she could wake up at any given moment.

It was just the bloody fact that it was possible that I could lose her, and not gain her back. We'd had so many close calls, and I didn't want this one to end it all, to end everything I'd grown so used to. As I stood in that airplane isle, I had an epiphany, and a fleeting thought of horror.

Amelia is mine, and she can't be taken away from me that easily. I knew damn well that she had a pulse, I'd felt it with my own fingertips, through her still-lukewarm skin.

But, the bloody doctor was staring at me with a look that made the whole plane fall silent.

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