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It's 3:02 am. I switched my phone off and shoved it into my ridiculously tiny bag. And aren't public restrooms supposed to be atleast a little hygienic? I can find at least twenty different flavours of bubblegum stuck on the walls and some barely hanging on the mirror.
I looked at myself. Everything came rushing in. Suddenly it was like I forgot how to stand, my knees became week and my head was spinning. Shaking my head vigoursly, I splashed water on my face to somehow attempt to reduce the heat wave parading on my face.
Tash stop, you've got this. You'll get inside the plane and go to New York and have the time of your life. Take a deep breath in and take a deep breath out. In and then out, in and-
''Attention passengers of American Airlines, flight number 069.."
That's my cue. I splashed water on my face for the fifteenth time and walked out. Inhale, exhale. Just keep breathing, you're doing great. As soon as I stepped out, I smelt cold coffee and millions of different types of perfumes. I think I can also smell cinnamon?
Next thing I know, I'm knocked down on the floor with something extremely sticky on my jeans. I'm tried to figure out what on Earth this was. It smells like cake but sure looks like pigeon poop, brown pigeon poop.
"Are you blind? Watch where you're going! You ruined my cinnabuns." a loud Aussie accent yelled.
"I'm sorry but I hardly did anything. You bumped into me, not the other way around. Actually, you know what, I'll pay." I tried to search for cash inside this god forsaken bag. I got a couple of crumpled hundred dollar notes, but I didn't think buns cost that much.
"Jack, leave her alone and pick on someone your own size. Your flight is going to take off and you really don't want to miss this one. C'mon, let's go." a calmer British one spoke.
This is was the first time I looked up at him. He was extremely chubby, and possibly a foot taller than me. His brown eyes squinting with anger, his face burning red, and I could see the veins popping out of his neck. He was definitely twice my size. He was breathing so heavily, I was already sweating.
Before I could glance at the other guy, Jack, I think stormed out, yanking his friend along with him. "I.. I'm sorry?" I tried to apologise, but Jack seemed like he was running for a marathon. But I also saw deep piercing midnight blue eyes.
It took me a couple of wrong turns before I could find Terminal 2. There was a huge crowd of people running from one place to another. I took time to acknowledge the surrounding. There were a lot of people completely freaking out and others just having a lost face. To be honest, it was a chaos.
"..flight 069, has been delayed until 6:00 am. The plane has been diverted to another airport and will arrive shortly."
Delayed? I should seriously stop zoning out. I might as well eat something as I'm stuck here for three more hours. I found my way to the nearest Café
Halfway through my chocolate smeared donut, someone sat on the chair in front of me.
On my table.
Right in front of me.
Were there no tables left or was this a common gesture in airports? Looking as confused as ever, I cleared my throat.
He had messy, straight out bed hair, like he had been running his hands through them frequently. He wore a blue fitted T-shirt and a black leather jacket over them. When his burning blue eyes met my bland brown ones, I recognised him.
"Sorry about my friend back there, he tends to get a little nervous in airports. I'm Blake, by the way." a familiar British accent smiled sheepishly at me. I look down at his extended hands. I didn't know what to say so I just nodded in acknowledgement and shook his hand.
"Not much of a talker?" He took my petite hands in his and gently shook it.
"I'm Natasha." I said, looking everywhere but his eyes. Somehow I need to force myself to look away. How can they be so blue?
"Natasha, so where are you off too?" He seemed like he really wanted to know, like he was interested.
I just blinked. Am I supposed to make small talk with him? What was he thinking, I have no idea who he is and I'm just expected to tell hi-
"It's okay, I'll go first. I'm 21, studying at University of Minnesota . I'm off to see my sister in NYC. She's working there and she has a couple of weeks off. Oh and my friend Jack was going back home to visit his mother. Right now, I'm sitting with a gorgeous girl who looks at me like I'm some sort of a serial killer. Which I'm not, by the way." He grinned and said. A very slight tinge of red started creeping on my cheeks, he called me gorgeous.
The corners of his lips twitched upwards. He looks at me expectantly. What was he expecting? What was I supposed to tell a completely stranger I just met? He was really cute though.
What if he doesn't find me interesting anymore, what if he thinks that I'm just another runaway-wannabe or what if he takes me back home? Okay that's insane, he wont.
But there's something about him that makes me feel less stressed. I stared observing his face. His devilish smile made my heart beat faster. He had a perfect jawline, the kind which makes the inside of your stomach churn. He also had well defined, voluptuous lips.
Wait, what?
"Hey Natasha? Are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I just, I got a ticket to New York. And I'm 19. Right now, I'm eating because the flight is delayed for ages." He didn't look away, he just caught my eye and held it in captive.
"19? Wow, that is- you're young. I mean, wow." He coughed. "But you don't look that young. Just so you know flights delay for 12 hours straight. Three is nothing. really."
Looking at his hideous backpack, the kind they use to trek up mountains, I asked, "Do you travel?"
"Heck, yeah. Bhutan, Prague, Indonesia, Australia, Toronto, Italy, Singapore, Dubai and India. And I was born in London, wait does that count?"
Holy. See now this is the kind of life I should be living. "That's amazing. What is your favourite place?"
He thought for a solid minute and said, "Prague, definitely Prague."
"You went there all by yourself?"
He looked away, obviously not wanting to talk about it. "I um, yeah sort of, I guess."
Not wanting to pry on the subject, I said. "So, tell me more about Prague. For the record, you are pretty young too."
He went on and on. I tried to go on and on. We talked about everything, from diplomas to pizza toppings. It seemed so comfortable to be around him and he was extremely easy to talk with. This is seemed so foreign, but at the same time sort of reassuring. Plus, it was keeping my mind of the anxiety I was having and honestly what do I have to lose?
Blake Parker wants to earn a living by travelling and . Surprisingly, he hasn't been to New York City either. He loves mushrooms and pepperoni pizza and is a die hard fan of Fast and Furious. He lives in Vermont and can stay up all night just to prank his roommate and also surprisingly knows a handful about birds. He despises anime and anything related to creepy Japanese cartoon. He loves the colour green oddly enough to paint his parents' whole house olive green, by himself when he was eleven. He plays almost every single sport ever to be invented but football seemed to be his favourite.
To top it off, he hated the Chinese cuisine too.
...
heyy guys
i just wanted to say hbd to the one and only LivingInPerpetuum (her stories are the best)
olaf.
