Burning Fires

Chapter 1: The Arrival

Ayeeee first chapter lets go :)

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Sapphire

"Airports will always remind me of what it means to love'' is a quote I read years ago. I can't remember where I put my chapstick or how to solve a math problem. But yet, I can remember that damn quote. Why did it stick? I don't know. Maybe it's because it reminds me of someone special. Maybe it's because I relate to the quote. Or maybe, just maybe, it's because I don't agree with the quote at all.

Airports have never, and will never remind me of love. They remind me of hate, stupidity, guilt, remorse, you name it. They remind me of all the times I had to move. They remind me of packing my bags and walking away. But worst of all, they remind me of him. I hate him. Loath him to the core. He is a self-righteous bastard who doesn't deserve anything he has in his possession.

And yet, here I am. Off to see him again.

I wish I didn't have to be here. I wish I could fly back to Michigan, climb in bed, and fall asleep. I wish this could all just be one bad dream. Most days, I wish I wouldn't wake up. And now, of all days, this is the day I do want to wake up. The day I wish I could snap myself out of.

My brother sits in the seat beside mine, looking out of the plane window with his first-class view. I may hate my father but that just gives me more of an excuse to spend his money. I told the flight attendant that the airline got our placement wrong and told them that we were supposed to be in first class. I also managed to slip in my father's name a few times. He may be an asshole but he is well known.

I'm sure he won't even notice the charges being added to his account "anonymously".

I turn my head to my right and look across the aisle, right where my brother sits. We're twins. He's older by 2 minutes and he will always use that as an advantage for himself. Besides me being a girl and him a boy, we look the same. Same wavy hair. Same sea-green eyes and olive skin tone. Same bone structure. Even our eyebrows are the same. He'd be a pretty good-looking guy if he wasn't such a little shit.

He's sitting there with his eyes closed, listening to music from his Airpods. I wave my hand to get his attention.

He doesn't open his eyes.

Of course, he doesn't, he can't see or hear you, dumbass.

"Stephan," I whisper, hoping he'll hear me. He doesn't.

"Stephan," I whisper louder. I would tap him on the shoulder but these aisles are so damn big I can't reach him.

Fuck it.

I close my laptop and shove it into my backpack, then grab a random sticky note and tear off a piece. I roll the paper into a ball and plop it in my mouth. Then, I take the straw out of my cup whilst coating the ball in spit inside of my mouth. I take the straw and place it right where I want it. I move the spitball inside my mouth and place it behind the entrance of the straw. I close my left eye, aim, and then blow.

WHACK!

The spitball lands right on my brother's cheek and he jumps, smacking a hand to his cheek and wiping it off. The scene has me double over, laughing. I try to contain my laughter as my Stephan glares at me and several bystanders look at us like we're disgusting little rats.

We'll never admit it, but we are.

Once I've relaxed a bit, and everyone has settled down, I turn to my brother. He's still glaring at me, except this time I can see his smile trying to make an appearance.