Snowflakes layered themselves over the window of the car. Each fleck made its way down from the clouds in a dance, and then eventually crashed into a pile of snow somewhere. The wiper interrupted George's thoughts as it squeaked across the glass. He blinked for a moment and slowly adjusted his posture, turning to look out the window. He was in the parking of the airport, he slowly remembered. A long but soft sigh was pushed from George's lips, and he took the key out of the ignition. The dull sky had gotten darker in the time that George had spent sitting in his car, a snowstorm was inevitable. It was only 4PM in England, but the sun was coming to a close set. Each coloured strip barely visible behind the clouds that plagued his British skies.
"Fuck." His hands ran through his hair and he looked up at the car's ceiling. He let his chest rise and fall for a moment. Thoughts wrapped around him like suffocating air. He slipped on a beanie from the glovebox, then felt as the seatbelt slid off with a quick snap. George opened the car door and stood up, momentarily loosing his balance on the wet blacktop. The parking lot was busy, many people were flying to and fro for the incoming holidays. He closed the door and locked it, then made his way to the terminals, hands in pockets. Loud voices laced with bright cheer and warmth blared like alarms. The brunet usually loved this, but right now he was nervous. He wanted to run back into his car, go park on the side of a highway, eat some food, and sleep in the backseat.
As the cold breeze from outside was met with the slightly warmer air blast from the doorway, he stepped inside and felt the air and aromas hit his face. The temperature in the airport was much warmer than outside, and his face slowly felt pricks of warmness. The expensive airport café food smelled warm and filling. Maybe this wont be too bad... He stood and scoped out the area, looking for the correct flight number on the giant screens. Once he found it, he dashed and scooted around a few frustrated passerbys and dishevelled flight attendents. Terminal B, Terminal B, Terminal... B? Or was it C? Shit... What if the flight was by a different terminal? This is a disaster...The sudden flow in newly arrived passengers in the C Terminal guided George exactly where he needed to go. He stood by the still stagnant luggage conveyor and quickly scrambled for his phone in his right pocket. He swiped up to snapchat and opened his most recent messages.
>dreamie: It'll be a dark green suitcase with a few decorative patches on it. There's a huge alligator patch on the front of it so it shouldn't be very hard to find. If I get to it before you- well you'll know who it is. :)
'Asshole... I can't even see green.' He cursed to himself. He had forgotten his glasses at home, as he was in a rush to drive to the airport. He usually never wears them, but he decided that today was a special occasion. Also, staying up past 4 am when you need to get up at 7 am for work might not have been the best idea George has had in a while. The nap he took at 1 wasn't the best idea either when he needed to leave for the airport at 2.
A yellow siren light started flashing on the luggage conveyor and George looked around as people stood up or settled in by the conveyor to grab their stuff. His eyes landed on each and every pack that turned the corner of the curved belt, and with each suitcase that passed he felt excitement and anticipation bubble up inside him, and he held his breath. Finally, he sighed in relief as the suitcase he needed turned the corner. He made a short walk over to it and reached out to grab the luggage by the side handle, when his touch was met with another. His shoulders tensed up for a second as he expected to look up and see a complete stranger with an angry, tired face.
However this face was neither of those things. Instead it was a familiar and very happy face. One that was painted with a soft excitement. A face that had a rugged but plain handsomeness, who's tied up dirty blonde hair and faint stubble on the chin really accented his features. He had ambition and lightness in his smile- and skin with the tanned but light fairness only someone who's spent years basking in the Florida sunlight all his life could acquire. The face was also attached to a very tall body so George had to look up quite a bit. As his eyes continued going over the man's features, he felt his breath hitch- as he looked at his smooth lips that tugged into a warm smile, then his freckles which almost artistically speckled his face, and finally, those wonderful wide eyes whose colours (had George been able to see them) were the most attractive and colourful green he's ever seen. Even if there was a bushel of choppy, curly blonde bangs falling over them. A smile quickly plastered itself onto both of the men's faces.
YOU ARE READING
childish traditions - sapwasfound
Fanficthe dream team are all together for the holidays in england- hopefully for a good and smooth visit. but a few bumps in the road are unavoidable when all three of them develop increasingly obvious feelings. TWS LISTED IN FIRST CHAPTER!!
