Harry
I bite the inside of my cheek as I wait outside Heathrow airport, leaning against my car. It was a risky move to come here, especially in broad daylight. Not to sound cocky but I know the chances of being spotted are high. The paparazzi haven't been called, probably since I'm not actually flying today, but normally when I come here I see at least one or two people that stop and ask me for pictures and subsequently, word travels fast.
However, I decided to take the risk of being seen because I wanted to be the one that came to pick Amelia up. She's flying in today from New York and originally we toyed with the idea of calling a driver to come pick her up, but I decided not to do that. I told her Gemma might pick her up, or my mum, but I made the last minute decision that it should be me.
I'm selfish and want all the credit of coming to pick her up.
Plus it'll be a fun surprise. She did the same thing to me a couple years ago when she told me her mum was picking me up from JFK. It was right before we were due to move in together. I remember how fucking happy I was so I thought maybe she'd feel the same.
I sigh to myself as a flurry of people suddenly walk out of the airport. My eyes scan over each person, frowning deeply when none of them are Amelia.
I just want my bloody girlfriend, is that too much to ask for? I haven't seen her in a month, which is the longest we've gone without seeing each other since I came home from our break.
On the bright side, though, I finally go my friendship lamp back from Malibu when I was last in California so that I could communicate with Amelia through it. It's one of my all time favorite things. I absolutely loved going out for a little while and then coming home to find the lamp had changed colors. It's the equivalent of a 'thinking of you' text message and it makes my heart so fucking happy.
I smile to myself thinking about it and as I do, my smile only widens because I finally see my beautiful girl walking out of the airport doors.
Amelia stumbles a bit as she rolls her obnoxiously yellow suitcase through the doorway, but she manages to compose herself quickly and begins searching the slew of people outside for either Gemma or my mum since she doesn't know I'm actually here.
I should go over to her directly to let her know I'm here, or send her a text message, but I take this brief opportunity to just admire how pretty she is.
Her hair is down today in it's natural state and she's dressed casually, in black leggings, white sneakers, and a grey jumper with purple letters on it spelling out NYU. I can also just barely make out her pretty eyes and full lips from where I'm stood. I'm far away from her, but not terribly so.
Her eyes finally drift over to where I am and I raise my hand, gingerly waving at her. A smile graces her face at my presence and she practically skips over to me, her luggage in tow.
When she reaches me, she abandons her luggage, causing it to fall to the ground with a thud, and practically throws herself at me. Her arms wind around my neck and I catch her mid air, my hands cushioning the underside of her thighs.
"Hi, love bug," I say, the pet name slipping out. I'm not sure how or when I started calling Amelia that, but it's my favorite pair of words now. I love it.
"Hi, angel," she whispers.
Angel?
I'm not sure where that came from but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it. No one's ever called me that before. Not even my mum, probably because I was an annoying child.
I plant a kiss to the crook of Amelia's neck before carefully placing her down on the ground. My hands now rest on her waist while her's remain on my shoulders.
