Everything You've Come To Regret

37 | the american experiment

AN: just wanted to let you know that there's some sexual content at the end. I hope you're doing good, I've missed you!! <3

November 23, 2015

The day after you stole my heart,
Everything I touched told me
it would be better shared with you

⋆ ˚ ° ° ˚⋆

My life started to change when I realised that my choices were neither good nor bad. It was all about experience, however satisfying it was. I wasn't scared about failure anymore. There would be bad days, and I would fail there as much as I did in England. It didn't change what I was, at my core.

I'm going through changes.

I had to admit Alex made it easier too. We were evolving and growing with each other, and he would probably fail too, someday. It wasn't so dramatic anymore.

Sitting next to him at our gate in Heathrow felt like a dream. Although part of it had to do with the few hours of sleep I'd gotten the past night, I felt too awestruck by the current situation to complain about anything.

Alex had prepared every detail in advance—well, two nights before, because the flight was a last-minute one. It included getting food in case we'd get hungry and figuring out how much time it would take to wait for everything.

His hand tightly held mine, and he'd already asked about five times if I was still okay with all of this. Of course, I was. It was a preview of what sharing our own place would be like.

After an hour on the seats, Alex stood up to stretch his arms. "I'm gonna grab a coffee. Do you want anything?"

I shook my head, pulling out my phone from my pocket. "I'm alright."

He nodded and leaned down to kiss me. "Be right back."

I watched him navigate through the crowd as if he knew the place by heart. Outside of the large windows, the sun was just beginning to rise. The sky was painted with soft shades of pink.

Swivelling around in my seat, I quickly captured the view and decided to send it to both my parents. The decision to go to LA had been so sudden that no one truly knew. I suspected that Miles did, but it wasn't any surprise. I just felt like now was a good moment to go. Plus, I took two weeks off, and Alex was free from anything career-wise.

Waiting for him to come back, I swiped on the pictures in my gallery. The last ones had been taken during the filming of Miracle Aligner, with a sequence of Alex's smile and another of him and Miles standing in front of the setting. There were a few videos too. My favourite was the one of Alex in the makeup room, his face an ugly shade of orange. I'd taken this two seconds before bursting into laughter, followed by the makeup artist herself. Oh, his face.

That fake tan had been horrid to remove. I could still see him in the shower that night, rubbing at his face like a madman while I was laughing at him. He'd been convinced that the water was better than the real makeup remover, but it had seemed even worse.

I swiped to the right, finding another picture of him I'd found of him on social media. This one had been taken the morning before our first meeting. I set it as my lockscreen.

While I was lost in thought, Alex returned with a coffee in hand. He asked if I wanted to take a sip and I accepted before we fell into that state of half-slumber on the uncomfortable chairs, my head on his shoulder.

For the most part, the flight went off without a hitch. I can't remember not holding his hand through the whole thing. I was both too excited to discover the house and anxious about being so high above the sea. Whenever turbulence occurred, he held my hand tighter and stroked my skin with his thumb.