Our final days in Vegas felt like they whizzed past and that's kind of because they did. We went out on both days, including the night we were supposed to be flying, which is why we were late for our flight and nearly missed it but no doubt, we got on.

I sat down in my seat, which unfortunately was not with my friends. All three of our seats were a few rows up or down from each other. I was sitting between an elder man, around my father's age, and a woman to my right who seemed like a librarian just younger than the snobby ones you imagine.

"Excuse me, ma'am, do you mind if I sit here? My seat is that one right there and it's also an aisle seat." I looked up and saw Noah standing there, talking to the librarian looking, woman. His seat was the seat in the column beside mine.

In short, I had a middle seat, the seat on both sides of the aisle was his, so the aisle was separating his seat and the old lady's. It wasn't far from mine at all.

"If your seat is right there then why are you looking to switch?" the lady asked rudely.

"Clearly, he's looking to sit with the girl, ma'am," the man from my left spoke up. "Do you know him, dear?" he asked me.

"Y-yeah, yeah he's um-"

"Her boyfriend," Noah answered for me.

"My boyfriend, yeah," I nodded. The woman was set on not giving up her seat, but the man was nice enough to swap seats with Noah. "Thank you, sir," I smiled.

"Not a problem, kids," he nodded with a kind smile.

"She's so mean," Noah whispered, sitting beside me.

I turned to him. "Hi," I grinned.

"Hi," he smiled. I lifted an eyebrow at him and he shrugged in response, "I wanted to sit with you on," he shrugged.

"No shit," I teased.

"I'm tired," he sighed, leaning his head back.

"Well, it's four in the morning so..." I trailed off, linking my arm with his, resting my head on his shoulder.

"What are you planning on doing till summer ends?" he asked randomly.

"Um, I'm not too sure, why?" I asked, straightening up.

"Actually, I wanted to know when you'll start packing. For Berkley," he said.

"Oh," I mumbled, "I- I don't know yet. I'm not too sure of what I will and what I won't be taking," I lied.

"Maybe I can help you pack, see your room," he smirked.

"It's so weird to think we haven't seen each other's rooms yet," I chuckled.

"I've seen your room," he shrugged.

"What? No, you haven't."

"Yes, I have."

"When?"

He turned to me, "There was this one time where I was over for practice and I think you went out with your friends and your dad offered me to stay for dinner and I asked him where the bathroom was and he said it was upstairs and instead of going into the guest room, I went into yours," he explained.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Why?"

He smiled sheepishly, "I thought I was never gonna know you and that was the closest I would get to it. I remember it distinctly," he answered.

"Map it out for me," I smirked. There is no way he remembers. That must have been freshman, maybe sophomore year. He stopped coming over for practice after that.

"Okay," he nodded, "You walk in through the door and your bed is in the center of the room, to the right of your bed, is your walk-in closet, to the left is your desk. To the right of your desk, is your bookshelf and to the left of it is another bookshelf, smaller than the one to the right. You read a lot.

Umm... to the left of the smaller bookshelf, is your dresser which has a bunch of drawers and doodles on it. Then on the right of your room, on the right of you closet, is a full-body mirror with lights around it, photos stuck to it, to the left of the mirror, this is confusing," he laughed, "To the left of the mirror is your vanity, is that what they're called? And then behind your vanity chair, is your bathroom. Is that right?"

I stared at him, not knowing whether I should be in awe or creeped out.

"Oh, and there was a One Direction poster on top of your bed. That might be gone now," he added.

"It's in my closet now, there's a Harry Styles poster up there, though," I shrugged, laughing. "I don't know if I should be scared or not," I smiled.

"Scared?" he asked.

"You remember it better than I do," I retorted.

He shrugged, "I remember very vividly. There are little drawings tucked in between the books. One of them is an envelope." The smile fell from my face. "I didn't open it. I just read the front of the envelope."

"Do you remember what it said?" I questioned.

He nodded, "For the tough times."

I stared at him as the flight began taking off. "Do you wanna know what it is?"

He shrugged, "Only if you wanna tell me."

I sighed, leaning my head back while he grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers. "It's a letter."

"To you?" I nodded in response. "From who?" he asked.

"From me." I turned to him, seeing the confusion glinting in his eyes. "I've always done this weird thing where if I'm going through a low time or a tough time, I write a letter to myself. I tell myself in the letter how it'll all be okay. I tell myself what I'm living for, that it's worth it, that the bad stuff is not permanent. That I'll get through it. And when I'm really feeling like shit," I chuckled, "I read that to myself."

"And that's what that letter was?"

"Mm-hmm," I nodded, "And that was during..." I prompted.

"The end of sophomore year."

"And I was in a relationship," I whispered.

Realization settled in his eyes and his head fell back against the seat. "Bella," he sighed, "Did you tell anyone?"

I shook my head, staring at my feet.

"Why not?" he asked softly. Our voices were already hushed, the librarian beside me doesn't need to hear any of this.

"I didn't know who to tell. I didn't know what to do. I thought we'd fix it ourselves," I shrugged. He clicked his tongue, tugging at my hand. I looked up at him and hated the pity I saw in his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, I don't like being pitied," I said, pulling my hand out of his.

"I don't pity you," he whispered, holding my hand, "I find it a little hard to believe that he didn't fall in love with you, first of all. Second of all, it shocks me that you were treated like that, and I'm so glad you fought through it. I don't pity you," he explained, "I'm proud of you."

"You are?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm," he nodded. I watched as his eyes flickered between mine and my lips. He gave me a short, sweet kiss before pulling back. "I'm bringing a bouquet to meet your mom," he said, looking out the window before turning back to face me.

"To meet my mom?" I chuckled.

"Yeah, what are her favorite flowers?" he asked.

"Um, sunflowers. Why are you bringing a bouquet?" I asked.

"Because it's my first time meeting her as your boyfriend. I already know your dad loves me, okay?" I nudged him playfully. "I need your mom to love me too. Sunflowers it is then. And you?"

"Me?" I asked in confusion.

"What are your favorite flowers? If I'm bringing a bouquet for your mom, how could I not bring one for you?" he smirked.

"I liked daisies and roses," I answered, "Either one of those you can bring."

"I'll bring you both," he winked.

I rolled my eyes, smiling before leaning my head on his shoulder, feeling the drowsiness kicking in from the lack of sleep. I linked my arm with his again and he held my hand through it, resting our held hands on my thigh. I felt him looking at me when he pressed a kiss to the top of my head before he rested his head on mine. Moments after that, I dozed off to sleep.

"Bella," he whispered. I rubbed my eyes open and sat up, my neck a little sore from the awful sleeping position. "We're landing in ten minutes," he whispered. I sighed, hugging his arm and putting my head back down, closing my eyes but not falling asleep. "Are your parents coming to get you?" he whispered while kissing my head.

"Hmm, I don't know. My dad probably texted me, I'll check when we land," I replied, "If they can't then I'll just share a ride with Ava, she doesn't live too far from my place," I mumbled.

"If they can't then can I drop you home?" he asked.

I smiled, opening my eyes and looking up at him. "Is that how much you don't want me to leave?" I teased.

"Yeah," he nodded, completely serious. "I'm sure your dad will be there, but just in case he isn't, can I drop you home?" he asked again.

I nodded, "Of course, you can drop me home."

He tucked my hair behind my ear, leaning his head back. "You look really cute while sleeping."

"Creep," I mumbled.

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