Through Hard Times. (Fantastic Foursome Fanfiction)

Fresh Start

Melanie

8:00 A.M (Alaska Time)

I looked out the plane window as the vapor clouds intruded the view. England. I wonder what it'll be like. Nothing like Alaska, I'm sure. My stomach dropped as I thought of home. A place I'll probably never see again. People I'll never see again. I looked over at my boyfriend Daryl. It was his idea to come here. I don't even know why, he wouldn't say, but he said it was very important. So I decided to go. I mean, what would it hurt? If I didn't like it, I guess I could always go back home. But even as I thought that I knew it wasn't true. Regardless of how much I'll miss home, this is a new adventure, I'll get to see so many different things in comparison with America; the people, the shops, the language, it all seems so different, so epic. I love British sitcoms, I don't really pay much attention to them though, I usually just listen to how they speak, how they sound when they say yogurt and zebra, or the letter "H". But I'm getting sidetracked.

Daryl looked back at me for a quick second before adverting eye contact. He's been extremely paranoid lately; irritable too. Probably just because of the move, I think. I placed my hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze,

"This'll be great." I whispered, "It'll be good for us." He nodded quickly and gave me an apologetic smile.

"I'm just nervous, that's all." He said as he started tapping his foot. I shrugged and continued to look out the window. He's been very distant. I guess he's just nervous. He's been like this since he brought up the idea of moving to England. I don't think I mentioned exactly where, but it's Manchester. He also started getting very solitary right before we left, I confronted him about it once, but he just said that he wanted to weaken his relationships with others so it doesn't hurt as much when we leave. Which makes sense, I guess. I think I'll just need to give him time to get adjusted. The plane landed a couple hours later, and Daryl was still a bit restless, but I shrugged it off as we went out to the baggage claim. We waited around for a good half an hour, me unable to barrel through the brick wall of people every time I saw my suitcase. Daryl didn't have much luck either, he's pretty short for being 24, about 5"4, I'm just an inch shorter, age 19 if you were wondering.

"Excuse me! Jesus! Just let me through!" I heard Daryl grunt as he squirmed in between the burly men that were blocking his way.

"Daryl, just wait for it to clear out a bit, there's no rush!" I called, but just after the last word escaped my mouth, the floor rushed up towards me as a big fat man slammed past me. I was about an inch from the ground when I felt a tug from under my arms. I was slowly, but easily, lifted to me feet. I dusted off my pants a bit, my stomach churning from the almost-fall.

"Are you okay there? That seemed like it would've been a nasty fall." I heard a man say. I looked up at the man and was almost taken aback by his eyes, electric blue. They were really cool looking. I wish I had eyes like that. Mine are just a boring gray/blue. But his were really stunning. And his yellow jacket made them pop.

"Oh, um, I'm fine. It was a 14 hour flight so I'm still just a little bit jetlagged, and being naturally clumsy doesn't help either." I gave him a sheepish smile as I took his appearance in. He seemed very young with his ebony black hair, a fringe that swung to the right, but by the look of his face I'd say mid-twenties. He also had extremely pale skin; thank God I'm not the only person in existence who is that pale. My blonde hair doesn't help either; it just makes me look like a pasty blob.

"I know the feeling, I'm a complete clutz." He mused, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"I got it! I got it!" I heard Daryl call from behind me,

"One second," I said to the stranger, turning around to see Daryl fighting through the crowd, the suitcase getting stuck between people. He looked like a mess, a slight bit of scruff covering his face, his eyes sunken in a bit. I let out a sigh of relief as I met him half way through the mob. Right when we get back to our apartment, I am making him a big breakfast. Breakfast? I thought of the time difference, 9 hours, I guess it'll be a dinner, then. I grabbed my suitcase from him and he started going back to the front for his case, immediately disappearing. I fought my way back out to the black haired man, proudly displaying my bright yellow case.