bodyguard - ON HOLD

4 - Plane

Madolina is a whole vibe

also im sorry in advance, i havent been on a plane in like six years-

--------------------------------------------------------------

Isa's pov | two weeks after the previous chapter, 7:28am

I officially hate airports. At least the big ones, small ones in the middle of nowhere are fine. They're too busy, crowded, loud and way too big. I can't find my way around, there are a lot of tourists, and even at almost six feet tall, I'm still getting pushed around.

I only have a carry-on, as I shoved as much as I could in there, and I'm wearing my chainsaw pants as they're thick and will use too much room in my backpack. I'm sweaty, annoyed with everyone around me, and ready to give up.

I've passed through security already, which took forever, and I had to explain why I was wearing my saw pants, but now I need to find my gate. Thankfully it doesn't take long, as after going through security it's nowhere near asneart as busy, but I have a good half-hour or so to wait before I can board.

Pulling out my phone, I go to Google Maps and find the Coliseum. Going into street view, I do my best to guess the height of the stone pines, and they all look to be around seventy feet tall. I could be wrong, but it doesn't matter all that much for this, thankfully.

"Excuse me, is this spot taken?" I look up to see an older woman, and I'm surprised that she's speaking English instead of Swedish.

"No, no, you can sit there," I say as I grab my backpack off the seat, putting it down on the floor by my feet.

"Thank you," She sits down, placing her backpack on her lap.

Checking the time, I realize it only took seven minutes to guess the height of the trees. I don't have anything else to do, and debate in my head on whether I should start a conversation with the lady next to me. After a few minutes, I decide I might as well since she's not doing anything and we could end up next to each other on the plane.

"Are you from Italy?" I ask, not liking how that came out and that out of anything I could've said, I said that.

"Yes, my son made me take a break and go on a trip. I did not want to at first, but now I'm glad he made me do that, it was nice to see Sweden again," She explains, love in her eyes for her son.

"You don't seem old, how old is he?"

"Twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Wait, how old are you? He hasn't dated anyone in so long and maybe he'd like you!"

My eyes go wide at her excitement, having not expected that, but I can avoid her question at least.

"Uh, I, okay?"

"How long will you be in Italy? I think he's going to be in Rome for a week and you two can meet," She suggests, and honestly, her son would probably not like her giving me this much info about him.

"A week," I mutter, almost wanting this because maybe he isn't half bad.

"Good, good. You two will go for dinner at a nice restaurant on, uh, wednesday or thursday," I look at her confused, I don't even know her name yet she's trying to set me up with her son.

"Wait, what's your name and what's his name?"

"Oh right, sorry. I'm Madolina and my son's name is Emilio. What's your name?"

"Isa, some people call me Isabella to piss me off because they know it's not my name and that it annoys me," I say before she can ask if my name is Isabella.