It was 6am and we were all sat on a plane. I sat uncomfortably next to Harry, I had the window seat. If the tension was going to be like this for the remainder of the flight I would be close to jumping.
Liam sat two seats behind, we had woken up in the same bed, after sex and two hours of sleep. Naked and vulnerable. Though I must admit that Liam’s clothes looked awfully good on my bedroom floor, I felt terrible this morning, we had nearly spoken, he’d smirked when we’d been asked how our night was. Harry had his suspicions, and sitting next to him for hours on this flight was going to be dealt of me.
“How long will you be staying for?” Harry asked me, I gulped as I realised he was talking to me. I turned to him. “I’m not sure. I need to see Zayn, and then I think me and Liam are going to somewhere else.” I spoke shyly, he nodded, and smirked. “What?” I asked, insulted.
“Nothing. Do you remember when we were in California?” he asked me, and I hummed a soft yes, letting the memory make me warm. “We’d spend days on the beach, and nights with bonfires.” he spoke, and I smiled, “I should have known. Staring into your eyes that were bright like the sun, sooner or later I would get burnt.” he chuckled to himself.
I didn’t respond to that. I didn’t know what I could say. “It’s in the past now anyway.” he shrugged, “It’s getting easier to live with.” he spoke, and i gave an unconvincing smile. “What?” he asked me, and I shook my head, “It’s just, you seem to enjoy making me feel guilty about not loving you.” I snapped, and he shook his head, “I like reminding you, just so you can’t do it again.” he told me, “Either way, I feel bad ok. I promise I won’t love you again.” I shook my head.
“You didn’t break me, you know? So don’t worry.” he tried to settle himself, and I turned to him, “Then why have you told me so many times that I did?” I stare at him waiting for an explanation, “I broke myself because I never gave up. It was easier to blame you, rather than look in the mirror.” he shrugged again, the boy who yesterday hated the thought of me with Adam, now told me I never broke his heart.
“Harry, is there anything left to love about me? I asked him, “You know there is.” he shook his head, and I shook mine in response. “I don’t know. He gave me tattoos.” I spoke, and he looked at me, “Zayn.” I finished, and he sighed for my to continue, “He gave me tattoos, with invisible ink. He left me with marks across my body that I could only see. He left me with tattooed memories along my arms. He left me with love stained hands from nights long ago. He was the tattoo artist of my life, and I was his canvas, but instead of the bright vibrant colours he used to sketch, he made me bitter and dark.” I said.
“We’ve all loved your scars.” he told me, “I remembered tracing them with my fingertips, and telling you how I loved them. I do, love them.” he smiled, no intentions, just a smile.
“I know where Zayn is coming from, you know? With his mother, the whole trying to kill himself thing?” I said. Liam wouldn't speak with me about philosophy or fate, he’d much rather look at me, but Harry liked my thoughts and smiled at me when I spoke, he listened. “What do you mean?” he enquired.
“A lot of people hate their life. The world isn’t a nice place to be all the time. The only thing stopping a lot of people is deciding their method, don’t you think that is fucked up? It’s not for their loved ones, because they think don’t care, or they know they do care but they feel like a burden. I read in the news a few weeks ago a girl who was 15 was being abused, and she couldn’t tell her mum because it was her step dad doing, and I just though, “you’re too young to be this sad”. Then when you told me what Zayn did, I though of that little girl, and though how long has he been this sad? Did it start before he met me or, was it when I lost out baby, maybe it was when I kissed you for the first time, you know? I lay there all last night with Liam, and I thought about it, I wrote a list at 3am before we left this morning and there are so many reasons he should be sad, but his mum dying, that’s what made him do it.” I spoke, and he looked at me as if I had spoken some piece of profound wisdom.
“I thought all of that when you tried to kill yourself. When Zayn told me what you and Josh were going to do, and how it would all just be over. I thought “she’s too beautiful that sad” but you weren’t the beautiful girl we all fell in love with, you had your scars, and you thought they were ugly, but they were your badges of honour. I sobbed and thought, “how badly did we fuck her up, if she’s just going to end with a glass of whiskey?” and I thought of everything that could make you do that, me, Zayn, you scars, but in the end, you weren’t even sad. You just didn’t want to make anyone else sad, you are a burden, Brook. You ruin everything you touch, but only because yo were ruined, so go and try again, theres a reason you didn’t die, and that’s not just because there was no poison in your drink, it’s because josh saw the value of you, the world isn’t ready to let go of you just yet.” he told me, almost in one breath.
I stopped and remembered everything about him, my mind raced through the memories of our nights together, his hands, his face, his hair, his voice, everything. I smiled, and physically touched his face, I am never going to forget him. It could be twenty years until I wake up and don’t think of Harry or Zayn, It could never happen.
I would never like to forget it all. I wanted to remembered them all, for their flaws and inconsistencies, along side their smiles and dreams. When this began I was seventeen. Most people don’t grow up. It’s too difficult. What happens is we simply get older. That’s the truth behind it. They honour their credit cards, and form a declaration of parking spaces, they marry and they have the courage to have children, but they don’t grow up. No, they just get old.
Maybe when I’m old, I will see that I had a good run, or maybe I will cry about and regret every decision I ever made, but there’s time for that in the future, but now? I am sat next to the boy who I stood up on our wedding day, on my way to see my the boy who stood me up on my first wedding day, with three other boys who I have slept with, and you know what, I feel good.
In the air. I feel good.
Most people in life want to feel happy, me? I have up on that a long time ago. Today, I just want to breathe.
“I will always remember you, you know that, don’t you?” I asked, and he smiled, and kissed my cheek, a familiar sensation that made my body sad. “Of course you will. I will remember you too.” he wasn’t done though.
“When all of this is done with, and we get grow up. I’ll find a nice girl, pretend that she is nearly half the girl you are, and I will marry her, have three kids, and one day you will turn up on a Thursday afternoon in the winter, looking for a place to stay. I’ll have already told my kids all about you, and Zayn and the most beautiful love story that I have ever known, and then you’ll tell me about your life, and you didn’t lie you really did let Zayn go, and we don’t hear from him now - we get a post card every two or three years, and then that’s it. You’ll stay the night, and in typical Brook Green style, you’ll leave at 4am, leaving nothing but a letter, and spray your perfume, and I will never see you again, but I won’t ever forget you.”
That could have been the most beautiful thing he’d said.
Sure, he’d spoke of loving me. But, he saw himself married, with kids. Harry envisioned a life without me, or Zayn. Harry would be okay. Harry would live on. It told me that all of this would be over soon.
“I like that idea.” I spoke, he chuckled, “I like that you think I can stay away from Zayn.” I smirked, “I believe you can, you won’t get married, two failed ones, already by 21.” he told me, “I know, who meets their true love at 17?” I shook my head, and he smirked, “I think Zayn is your true love, I just think you were like the sea and the tide, you couldn’t really meet because your timing was always off” he smirked at me, and I leant into him.
“I’ll be travelling the world. I want to Rome, and Paris, and maybe Brazil. I want to be the girl I should have been for a while.” I tell him, and he smirked, “That sounds good.”
One plane ride with Harry and I knew where I needed to be. I wasn’t ready for this adventure to be over yet. I wasn’t running away again, that isn’t how I was raised. So what if my parents weren’t dead, and I had scars, and I didn’t want to be Zayn’s girlfriend, maybe I was so much more. The boys taught me how to survive. This part of my story wasn’t over yet. We still hadn’t finished. I wasn’t leaving until all ties were clear cut, and everyone loved each other. No profound love, no overwhelming romances, no damned regrets.
No one told me it was going to be easy. They never taught me how to pick up the pieces, I just learnt how to put them back together.
“Thank you, Harry. I was scared you were going to hate me.” I spoke and he chuckled, “I have tried to, but I never can.” he smirked, and I leant against him. “One last adventure? I don’t mean a small one, I mean one full of heartbreak, passion, guns, and fighting, and everything about this world that is going to one day leave me empty or dead.” I suggested to him, and with that his hear was beating with mine, “One. Then we call it quits?” he laughed but I knew he was serious, I nodded in agreement.
“Just promise me one thing?” he asked me, “Don’t say you love me again.” he smirked down at me, the devil still danced on his lips, but maybe the devil wasn’t such a bad guy after all. As on this day where the world was going to fall apart, I had figured everything out. From the window of the Plane leaning on Harry’s arm we saw the sunrise.
The sunrise proved it, that sometimes a new beginning is beautiful.