fool (lester averman)

chapter four

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chapter four: what love is

a/n:

✨filler✨

tw(s) - rory has issues with food and exercise, brief mentions of some intense things, and les' jealousy is starting.

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"You've never been on a plane before."

Averman's skin has become waxy as the air hostess, moments before takeoff, gives her safety demonstration to fifteen people who are too tired to give a damn. His fingernails are digging into the leather of the armrest and his breathing is labored, and, frankly, he looks like he's going to puke his guts out.

In response to her bluntness, he swivels to face her and stares, owlishly, like she's just said something wrong.

"What?"

"Do I look like someone who's been on a plane before?" He asks, jaw clenched, somehow being sarcastic even as he's trembling.

Rory sucks her teeth.

"Your, uh, your dad has had this thing checked out, right?"

"We're billionaires, Les." She hums. "Yeah, the plane has definitely been checked out."

Averman nods jerkily. A hundred statistics about the likelihood of plane crashes and how they aren't going to plummet out of the sky die on her tongue as the hostess finishes her demonstration.

"Look, you're going to be just fine."

"I'm aware of that. That's why this is called an irrational fear."

"You're just going to feel a little strange as the pressure changes," She speaks over him, "and there may be some mechanical sounds, but that's all. There's no need to lose it."

Averman sighs deeply.

Takeoff, just like she says, goes smoothly.

When he feels that slight pull behind his navel, he grabs her hand and squeezes it so tightly that it hurts her. Rory doesn't complain, though, and watches his face (eyes clenched behind coke-bottle lenses and his nose scrunched up) as he goes through several stages of grief. She stays silent until the seatbelt light turns off and the flight attendants give the kids the okay to start walking around if they so see fit.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Rory pats him on the hand and then pries herself free from his grip.

She doesn't wait for him to answer her. She just walks down the length of the plane, a small smile on her face, toward the two women on staff.

One looks up at her as she approaches and returns her gesture. "Hi, Rory. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright. Excited, even."

"That's good, I'm glad. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Okay, so, please don't look, but my friend's on the verge of throwing up everywhere so I was wondering if I could get a glass of water and a mint for him?"

They speak in hushed tones and the lady, not letting her gaze wander, nods. "Of course. Anything else?"

"And could you pass out those fancy little La Maison Du Chocolat truffles that my dad always has in stock for me, please?" The hostess steps into the kitchenette and gestures for her to follow. "'Cause I don't see these kids being big on caviar, and it's kinda late so I'm not sure they're hungry for real food, but I still want to sweeten the start of the trip, y'know?"