Hopelessly Devoted - Bradley Will Simpson.

Letter Seven.

Bradley;

Waking up in this police cell, reminds me much of the times before I met you. A delinquent, an insignificance, all before you arrived.

Even now, I can see your best friends trying to reason with the police receptionist to let me go. I remember the last time we were all here together, when I messed everything up. I don’t regret it at all, maybe this is what should happen, maybe I should be left to rot here.

A half hour later, the boys are still here, still trying to convince the police I’m ‘harmless’ and ‘won’t do anything like this again’ there’s no making that promise.

They gave me false hope about you, and for that I believe my actions were justified. You always used to say I was a livewire, didn’t you? And you loved being the one to keep me under control. Which you could easily do with just one touch.

With next to no sleep and only moonlight as a guide, I found myself reading your page of this notebook over and over. Your comedic little sketches when you were stuck on what to write, our matching surnames and a list of baby names.

But the thing that sticks out most is what’s written at the very bottom. Those three monosyllabic words that make my heart flutter even remembering you saying them.

I drew an arrow pointing to it saying ‘how much’ and I remember your reaction. I was laying on your lap and I smiled up at you, and once you read my reply you took the pen and wrote your rebuttal.

‘This much’ you wrote, and underlined it six times. I read it over and over and couldn’t make any sense from it.

I looked up at you and you were already smiling back down at me, and you dipped your head ever so gently until our lips were connected, and even in that simple motion it was clear to me just how much you meant.

Whilst living in the past, there had been some developments in the bleak present, with a police officer walking towards my cell and unlocking it, with an unmotivated and unwilling expression.

As the bars that previously obstructed my vision disappeared I got a clear look at the boys, each puffy eyed and with a sympathetic expression. They were clearly worried which is touching, but to be honest I don’t know whether I’d prefer to be out or back in the cell left to perish forevermore.

The boys offered to support me to the car, as I hadn’t moved since I was thrown into the cell and my legs may as well have not been there, but I refused. I grasped the notebook, our notebook, tighter than ever, and stumbled out of the station, ignoring the stares from the staff there.

James and Tristan insisted on walking behind me ‘just in case’ and Connor lead the way to the car, every so often his form sagging as he sniffed back tears. I heard scuffed footsteps from behind me every so often, probably one of them breaking down and the other having to be there.

I kept myself composed as we made our way to the car, the pad of my thumb tracing over your handwriting on the cover of our notebook. Once the door unlocked I sat in the back beside Connor and turned my gaze to the window.

We passed building after building, with nobody uttering a word. The radio played softly in the background, and then your song came on. I noticed all three of your best friends’ bodies stiffen at the opening chord, but none dared to change the station.

We sat in silence just listening to your angelic voice fill the car, and every so often I noticed one of the boys’ shoulders begin to shake. I kept up my poker face, and wiped away the condensation on the window. Occasionally there was a whimpering sound from beside me, and the youngest boy was trying his best not to break down again.

By the time the song finished and your voice faded out, I had to let my head fall in my lap before I broke my ice queen exterior. I let the fabric absorb my tears, knowing the transparent traitors wouldn’t be evident once I lifted my head again.

After a few seconds of breaking down I lifted my head to see Connor just turning his head away, clearly trying to not let on he’d been watching this whole time. James and Tristan took it in turns looking in the front mirror which reflects back onto me, so everyone had seen me.

I kept a straight, emotionless face for the duration of the journey, as memories from various buildings around town were amplified as we passed them.

Do you remember the time we decided we wanted to redecorate our room, my love? We went out and bought every colour of paint under the sun, and laid them out on the floor, laughing at how overboard we went.

Whilst we were discussing which colour for each wall you wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in close. I rested my head against your chest and couldn’t help but smile.  How was I so lucky?

Compare that with now. Back in our room, sobbing into a pillow. It had sunken in a while ago there was no way of you coming back to me, but I refused to believe it. I kept Connor’s belief alive about a long vacation, probably more than he does now.

I glance at our creation, our feature wall. It took hours to create, but every brush stroke was laced with affection.

Do you remember what happened whilst we were painting, Bradley? Being the uncreative thing I am couldn’t even use a paintbrush right, the strokes were in ridiculously short bursts, and every time I got frustrated you were nearly keeling over in laughter.

I soon gave up and sat sulking on the bed, whilst you were still in stitches. Eventually you stopped laughing and wiped the tears from your eyes, then walked over to where I was sat, arms crossed and pouting.

You held out your hand and I looked up questioningly at you. You smiled sweetly and continued outstretching the hand, up until the time I cautiously took it, and you lifted me up off the bed effortlessly.

You handed me the paintbrush again which I reluctantly took, still curious as to what you were planning.

You placed your hand over mine and took a grasp on the paintbrush, so we both shared control over it.

You lifted our hands to the wall and guided the brush in slow up and down motions, and I beamed with pride at completing probably the simplest task in the world.

I spun around in your arms and dropped the paintbrush at our feet, and leaned up ever so slightly to kiss you. We both smiled through the kiss, and once we unwillingly pulled away we noticed the boys standing in the doorway smirking and laughing.

I felt on top of the world whenever I was in your presence. The best part? You were right there with me. I was yours and you were mine.

Now I’m still yours, but how do I know if you’re mine?

One thing’s for sure, I won’t sit here much longer wondering about it.

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I hope you liked this chapter, the first posted since i’ve returned to Wattpad (yay)

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The song for this chapter is 'Ghost' by Katy Perry, because if you listen to the lyrics you can see why for yourself, it might as well be the official song of the story  - listen to it in the sidebar if you haven't already x

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Authoring xoxoxoxoxox