Chapter 8 - England

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Taylor's P.O.V.
A sharp blast of cold air hit me as I got off the plane. Of course - it was England. It was bound to be cold, despite it being March. I pulled my coat over my shoulders and wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck as I made my way through the airport. By the time I had made my way through passport control and had collected my bags, it was already 7:30pm. There was no one there to greet me as I made my way to the exit, and memories flashed before my eyes as I remembered the last time I had been here. It had been when Sydney, Sam, Mia, Teddy and Dylan had come to say goodbye to me, the day I left for New York. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing them all again, as I waited patiently outside the airport for a free taxi. But for some reason, today was especially busy, and there were no available taxis in sight.

I waited out in the cold for half an hour. A light layer of snow had fallen on the frozen ground beneath my feet, and small snowflakes had settled in my messy hair. I tightened the belt around the waist of my coat, and shoved my hands in my pocket. My toes were numb in my boots, my clammy skinny jeans clung to my legs, and my fingers tingled inside my gloves. Put simply; I was cold. After having waited for an hour, with no taxis becoming available, I sighed and walked back into the airport. I made my way to the nearest Costa Coffee, which was just on the corner of the airport entrance, and took a seat at the front of the shop. Grateful for the sudden warmth, I brought out my phone. Should I call Sydney to come and pick me up? She didn't live far from the airport, and it would still be a surprise to her if I called to say I was home. But then again, I wanted to be there at her front door to see the look of surprise and happiness on her face when she saw me standing there. Should I, or shouldn't I? Should I, or shouldn't I? As I debated with myself, about whether or not I should call Sydney, I suddenly let out a small sneeze. Bloody winter has given me a cold. Fantastic.

"Bless you," Someone with a British accent said, as they walked past me.

"Thank you," I said quietly, looking down at my phone again. But then in the corner of my eye, I saw the person who had said 'bless you', stop walking and turn to face me.

"Taylor?" Shocked, I looked up from my phone. My eyes searched the crowd for the voice, and they soon fell upon a mass of messy blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and a smile I could never forget. I rose from my seat and my heart raced.

"Thomas?"

"Oh my god, Taylor!" He exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug. I circled my arms around his torso and embraced the heat from his body.

"You're freezing," He chuckled, stepping back from me with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, bloody snow," I laughed a little, and shuddered as I felt the cold return to my body.

"You always had a habit of dancing in the rain. I guess now you've substituted for snow?" He laughed, "Do you want my jacket?"

"No, no I'm good thanks," I muttered quietly. I could already feel the tears building up in my eyes, but I kept them back. I hadn't forgotten what Thomas had done to me, and a rush of emotions flooded my mind. Trying to focus on not backing away from him and screaming at him for what he'd done, I looked up into his eyes, trying to think of something to say. And they hadn't changed. His eyes were still as chocolate brown, still as warm and friendly, still has handsome as they'd ever been. I noticed his eyes glisten slightly. Were those tears?

"You look amazing!" He continued, "Three years hasn't changed you one bit!"

"You too," I agreed, "Yeah, three years huh?"

"Yeah," He said quietly, giving me a brave smile, "So what are you doing here? I'd heard that you'd gone to New York?"

"Y-yeah," I smiled slightly, "I took that promotion that George gave me."

"Oh, yeah," He nodded a little and looked down at the floor. I knew he remembered all too well when I'd first told him about my promotion. And he knew exactly why I had taken it too.

"Listen, Taylor," He mumbled, looking down at me with his brown eyes, "I-" Before Thomas could finish what he was saying, someone behind him had called out his name. He turned around, and I could see a large grin spread across his face, as a girl who was my height, with long dirty blonde hair and fair skin came running towards him with outstretched arms.

"Bella!" Thomas cried, as he picked the girl up in his arms and spun her around. They both laughed as he set her down on the ground, and with a big smile on her face, she stood up on tiptoe and kissed him. Wait a second. Who is this girl? And where's Molly? Questions filled my head as I stood there awkwardly for a moment. After their long kiss, they pulled apart, and Thomas turned to me.

"Bella, this is Taylor,"  

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