Start Over

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The flight home was torture. My parents cried again as I left them in the terminal and made me promise to visit again soon. I didn't bother ruining the mood further by telling them about my sudden career change – no need to kick up dust. To be honest, I'd rather tell them over the phone it's safer that way, I can just hang up if they start to get annoying. Besides, I have enough on my plate and I don't want to cloud my mind. I need to form a game plan for how to address Harry and I's issues. I can't have him contemplating walking away because I squandered my chances at real resolution. I don't want to fight or battle or have some type of blame game pissing contest. All I want to do is insure that we put everything on the table good, bad, and indifferent.

I thought I'd have plenty of time to get my words together on the plane but the entire flight back to LA not one but two babies were crying nonstop and incredibly loud. It made it pretty hard to think so I made sure to blast my music in my ears much to the discomfort of the elderly woman sitting beside me. I was also ridiculously hungry but I couldn't eat a thing for fear of throwing it up. Since this morning my stomach has been doing loops and flips every few seconds. However, in spite of the distractions, I was able to formulate a plan of action.

My steps feel weighted as I leave from grabbing my luggage and head towards the exit. Harry and I coordinated times last night so that he'd be here to pick me up once I landed. The butterflies hearing his voice triggered have been swarming in my stomach since I hung up the phone. Each time I think about seeing him, excitement and anxiety run through me and speed my heart. The pounding in my ears drown out everything around me especially once I see the face that's been haunting my dreams for the past couple weeks.

I struggle to hold back tears I didn't expect as I see the grin across his bubble gum pink lips. He looks so happy to see me I can't help but mirror his grin. The closer I get to him the faster my heart beats, it feels like it'll explode. I'm so overwhelmed with the way that I feel I just want to stop and take a minute to recoup but my body's on autopilot and on a mission to get to him by any means necessary.

He looks even better than he did when I left. It seems as if he's packed on a bit more muscle and leaned out some so his defined arms shine in his band tee with cut off sleeves and his legs look a little thicker in his trademark dark skinny jeans and black boots. His chestnut locks are pushed back in that messy yet styled way he's perfected and it's a little shorter than I remember as if he's gotten it cut in my time away.

His arms open as I get close enough and I drop everything to jump into them. Eyes fall on us at the commotion but I couldn't care less, I've missed him too much. Harry envelopes me in his arms so tightly I lose my breath. A groan escapes my throat as I squeeze him back trying to express my emotion through our physical connection.

"I missed you," I breathe into his ear, "I missed you so so much baby."

I feel his smile against my skin and it send shivers down my spine. He breathes out a heavy breath and pulls away from me slowly, holding me at arm's length as if he wants to examine me.

"Let's get you home," he replies, a slight smile on his lips as he grabs my stuff from the ground.

I'm a little annoyed he didn't say he missed me back but I guess I can't knock him for not being overly emotional – we are in a crowded airport.

We walk side by side out to his Range through a few fans and paparazzi. Thankfully the crowd isn't too big or overwhelming. The only paps that showed are the ones who creepily followed him here and a few fans that were already here waiting for autographs. After waiting on the side for him to take pictures, he grabs my hand and we speed off to the car. He opens my door and then takes my luggage around to the trunk.

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