Work In Progress |L.T| |A.U|

XXXVII - Tomlinson

This got way longer than I intended. Sorry.

XXXVII - Tomlinson

Fingers tap restlessly on the armrest of the chair I'm sitting on as I sit with my legs crossed waiting for my luggage to arrive. Do you know that feeling when you just feel like everything around you is just going super slow and you're the only one moving in normal speed, like suddenly the world has decided to spin slower but you're too restless to even consider what the world thinks.

When two souls fall in love, there is nothing but the yearning to be close to the other. The presence that's felt through a hand held, a voice heard or a smile seen.

Souls don't have a calendar or clocks, nor they do understand the notion of time or distance. They only know it feels right to be with one another.

This is the reason why you miss someone when they're not there - even if they are only in the very next room. Your soul only feels the absence, it doesn't realise the separation is temporary.

When she called me a week ago, crying on the other side, I've never felt guiltier than I did then. To know that I'm the reason behind her distress, to know how much she's been suffering. The sounds of her treacherous sobs were agonising. I've never felt so frantic and useless at the same time. I wanted to make everything okay right then, but the miles and miles of distance that kept us apart stopped me from doing so.  I wanted nothing but to throw everything out of the window and book the very next flight to Heathrow, but I had a bloody book signing a few hours later and the publishing company would have sued me if I didn't show up.

So here I am, week later on a Wednesday evening at Heathrow airport ready to surprise my girl.

She must have gotten home about half an hour ago. I can already imagine her curled up on the couch with my sweater stretched all the way up her knuckles watching Greys Anatomy or the HIMYM.

I hadn't realised when the gentle smile had creeped up my lips but when I realise how much of an idiot I must look like smiling by myself, I quickly straighten my lips, happy to finally get my luggage.

My heart thumps hard and fast, the excitement getting hard to contain as I rush outside with a face-splitting grin stretched across my lips. It's spell-binding to know we're in the same city, it feels as if I can already feel our hearts beating in sync.

Luckily I get a taxi as soon as I get out. I'd almost given the driver the address to our old flat but I'm quick to correct myself. When I sit back and the engine starts up I'm taken back to the moment she found out about the flat.

Of course I'd wanted to be here in person to see her reaction, but the circumstances hadn't been in our favour and it had to be done via Skype. Nonetheless, she loved it.

I could sense a small doubt in her tone and I was very much aware of her fondness towards our old flat. But she'll start liking it soon; when we'll make new memories and fill the flat with laughs and cries, the place will start feeling like home again.

Six more weeks, six more weeks of pure agony and we'll be back again. And I can start actually helping out with the baby, I know I've been a shitty father lately but this is good, right? I'm making more money than I ever thought I could and that's good for our child, we can give it the life he or she wants to have, we can put the whole world at their feet and that's what every parent wants, right?

And I can provide for her too. She can live with the same ease and facilities as she did before she sacrificed it all for our child. I know it would take a lot of effort to convince her to accept everything though. From how she kept insisting to pay half of the cost for the new flat and how she kept saying she couldn't let me take care of the entire expense of the flat, I know she wouldn't allow me to do everything for her so easily. Quite the stubborn one she is.