“I tried playing it cool, but when I'm looking at you, I can't ever be brave, cause you make my heart race. Shot me out of the sky, you're my kryptonite, you keep makin' me weak, yeah, frozen and can't breathe.” - One Thing

FEBRUARY 14, 2012

9:15 A.M.

Liam tapped the pen frantically as if it were a drumstick while he stared at the cards covering the table. He focused on the words he’d written, scratched out, and rewritten at least ten times already. They still weren’t the right ones. He linked his hands through his hair and sighed in frustration. How could something so simple be so bloody hard? One sentence and writing it was pure torture.

            He secured the pen in his fingers and wrote again, surprised at how steady his hand was. When he looked at what he'd written, he gritted his teeth, threw the pen down and walked out of the flower shop, leaving the roses and card behind.

            He was debating what to do next when his cell rang. It was Niall. “Yeah?”

            “Top of the mornin' to you too you bloody arse,” Niall said.

            “Sorry,” Liam mumbled.

            “You haven’t sent the flowers yet, have ya?”

            “Nope.”

            “You can do it, mate. Forget the flowers, just go to her place and tell her.”

            He closed his eyes, recalling the countless times he'd tried telling Sarah how he felt about her in the past. There was a reason the boys referred to the entire thing as Liam's personal SOS aka “Sarah Olsen Symptom” which in turn produced “Sarah Olsen Stories.” The irony of the acronym didn't escape him. Worse part was: they were right. It was a dire situation at best. He'd loved Sarah Olsen since he could remember and she didn’t have a clue. 

            Liam rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Right then. That's what I'll do. Just head on over and tell her she's the one.”

            “That's the spirit,” Niall replied with enthusiasm. “Ring me when you're done.”

            Liam shook his head. “You're in bright spirits for a fictional holiday.”
            “Zayn said it's not fictional,” Niall supplied. “Plus I met someone last night. Maybe she changed my mind.”

            Liam laughed. “Wow, so who do I owe the pleasure of this pep-talk to?”

            “Name's Emily,” Niall said. “Can't wait for the lads to meet her. I'm bringing her to the show tonight. Anyway, enough about me. Go. Tell Sarah you love her mate, you won't regret it.”

            “Right,” Liam said. “Bye.”

            Niall's pep-talk struck some kind of chord with him, suddenly he had renewed courage. Renewed courage or total senselessness, didn’t matter which, it was all leading him to the same place: Sarah’s apartment building.

            He stood before the towering structure and felt his stomach flip, twist, then settle in a solid knot. What was he doing here? How did he possibly think this was anything but a very bad idea? Girls like Sarah; confident, smart, well spoken and most of all gorgeous were untouchable. Even for him.

            He knew the fact that he thought Sarah out of his reach was ridiculous. It’s not like he had any real problems getting on the receiving end of girls affections. Their new-found fame solidified his spot in the dreams of many. He couldn’t say he minded, but Sarah acted as if he were the same guy she’d always known which he was, and that made her…perfect.

            He inhaled, thinking rather than profess his love he’d just go say hello. There was no risk in hello. He entered the building and took the lift to the sixth floor. Her door was partly open and he could hear music, his music, playing rather loudly. Better still, she was singing along.

            “Now I’m climbing the walls, but you don’t notice at all that I’m going out of my mind, all day and all night. Something’s gotta give now, cause I’m dying just to know your name…”
            Liam slipped through the door soundlessly and sang he hoped loud enough to be heard over her music, “and I need you here with me now, cause you’ve got that one thing. So get out, get out, get out of my head, and fall into my arms, instead…”

            She spun on her heel, raced toward him and threw her arms around his neck. “Liam Payne!”

            “Hey darling,” he said, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. “What've you been up to?”

            Sarah smiled and any problem he’d had on his mind, from the smallest worry to the biggest conundrum melted away.

            “I can’t believe you’re here! You should have called. I’d have put coffee on or something. Or I at least would have went out and bought it so I'd have it to offer. Grocery shopping isn't really my strong point.”

            “I wasn't really planning on coming over today,” he admitted. “I'm sure you've got plans to go out. I was kind of in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by.”

            She dismissed his suggestion with a wave of her hand. “I was just going to stay home anyway.” As she spoke, she headed over to a hook on the wall and threw a jacket over her shoulders. “Listen, you're my guest. Have a seat. There's a coffee shop just down the road. I'll be five minutes, tops.”

            “I could come with you,” he offered.

            Behind the thick fringe of her hair, her eyes lit up. “Don't be silly.”

            “I'm not being silly,” he said. “I should be getting the coffees.”

            She cocked her head to the side like he'd just told her the sky was purple. “No. I will go and get the coffees. Please Liam, I hardly ever get to see you anymore, let me at least be a good hostess.”

            He dug in his pocket and pulled out a bill. “Alright. I'll make you a deal, you can get the coffee but I'm paying for it.”

            “Deal.” She held her hand out expectantly and he forked over the money, brushing her fingertips with his own.

            She skipped to the door and turned. “Liam?”

            “Yeah, love?”

            “I'm glad you're here.” With that she shut the door behind her.

            Her walls were covered in her pictures and he squinted at one that was new since the last time he'd been there. It was him and Sarah at a party the previous New Years. He'd almost kissed her that night but he lost his courage and looked away at the last minute. Sarah had carried on like nothing happened in the first place and he'd spent every night since wondering if she'd even noticed.

            In the photo, he was seated on the couch and Sarah was next to, or rather on top of him, with her legs stretched across his lap. He'd just cracked a joke and it must've been a good one because she had her head thrown back in laughter. He stood there and studied the image, wishing he could pocket the entire frame and take it with him.

            A scratching noise at the door startled him out of his daydream. She was probably back already and struggling to open it with the coffees. He swung it open, expecting Sarah to be on the other side, but it wasn't her. It was a flower delivery guy. Complete with a “Pristine Petals” name tag.

            “Sarah Olsen home?” he grumbled.

            Liam's eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped at the realization that he'd been a patron of Pristine Petals just an hour ago. Holy crap! His flowers. Panic injected itself into the very blood running through his veins. “Afraid, you've got the wrong house, mate.”

            The delivery guy's eyebrows knit together in confusion, “Are you sure? This isn't Pine Street, apartment six nineteen?”

            Liam looked down the hallway as bile crept up his throat. “No, mate, it's not!”

            “Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I'm at the right place.”

            “You're not!”

            “Flowers!”

            He'd never actually wanted to vomit at the sound of someone's voice, least of all Sarah's, but there was a first time for everything, wasn't there? This was just flippin' perfect. “He's got the wrong house.”

            Flower boy turned to Sarah, ignoring Liam completely, “You Sarah Olsen?”

            “Yes.”

            “Here.” He thrust the flowers in her direction but Liam intercepted and took them instead.

            What was he going to do now?

            “Let's go inside,” Sarah said. “I can't believe someone sent me flowers.”

            Excitedly, she headed to the coffee table to set down their drinks. Liam looked around and debated how quickly he could make it to the kitchen, perhaps he'd be able to get a portion of them down the disposal. Mash them up good before Sarah caught him. He'd light them on fire if he could. He'd eat them, thorns and all...maybe that wasn't a bad idea.

            Sarah extended her hand. “Liam.”

            “Yeah?”

            She grinned. “My flowers?”

            Reaching her hand out to grab them, he did the only thing he could think of in his moment of need and stretched his arm, and the bouquet high above his head.

            “Liam,” she said in disbelief, “What are you doing?”

            “Stopping you from making a huge mistake,” he said.

            “Give me the flowers.”

            He bit his lip and shook his head. “No.”

            “No?”

            “Right then, how about those coffees?”

            “Liam James Payne, if you know what's good for you, you'll fork over those flowers. Now.”

            “Afraid I can't do that, love.”

            In a flash, her face went from angry to hurt. He could see moisture collecting in her eyes. He'd managed to offend her and make her cry. Mr. Chivalrous. He could virtually hear the bad music that accompanied moments like these in the movies. Her lip was even trembling. “Liam, why won't you give them to me?”

            Walking into oncoming traffic was preferable to being responsible for even one of her tears. He looked at her for what he was sure would be the last time, then at his feet, before handing the flowers to her and walking away. “Goodbye Sarah,” he said.

            Back out on the street, he was even angrier at himself for walking and not driving over. Where were superhuman teleporting powers when he needed them?

            “Liam!” her voice called after him.

            He couldn't even bring himself to look at her.

            “Liam!” she tried again, this time louder. “Oh for goodness sakes, look at me. Liam! I love you too! I always have!” Her words stopped him dead in his tracks, like his feet were suddenly coated in concentrate. He turned around to see her standing with the small card in her hand. “Don't leave. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

            “Because,” he admitted, “I can't really stand the thought that you might not feel the same way.”

            “I'd be crazy not to,” she said. “No one has ever been good enough because I always compare them to you.”

            He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Let me take you out on a proper date. Breakfast, maybe?”

            “I'd be honored,” she said looking at her feet, “but first I need shoes. I kind of ran after you without giving it much thought.”

            They headed back to her apartment and while he waited, he picked up the card she'd laid on the table. His hands shook as he read the words he hoped years from now he'd be able to say changed his life forever.

Sarah, you're my first thought in the morning, my last thought in the evening and every thought in between.

I love you, I always have,

Liam

            He waited for Sarah. He'd waited for years, a few more minutes wasn't going to make any difference at all. He pulled out his cell phone and sent a text to the boys, then switched it off. He didn't need any distractions today. The only thing he needed was in the other room, finally within his reach.