Running

Chapter 2- Starbucks Coffee and British Boys

Author's notes

Heyy guys, so sorry that this took so long to update but please read and enjoy.

Love your Drama queen ♛

I felt a hand tapping my shoulder and slowly  my eyes fluttered open and took in its surrounding.

That's when I realised I'm still on the plane.

I looked up to see who was tapping my shoulder. I turned to see the air hostess who I showed my boarding pass to. She had her long blond hair tied up in a bun and her brown eyes shining down at me. Her name tag read Samantha. Her blood red lips formed into a heart-warming smile.

"Sorry miss, but it's time for you to disembark the plane."

"Oh right, thank you."

"No problem, would you like to follow me please?"

Samantha stood back as I stood up and grabbed my handbag. I looked around just in case I left anything behind. Once I was sure I hadn't left anything I turned to Samantha who lead me out the front of the plane.

I quickly followed behind her and looked at all the empty chairs around me. I then noticed that I was the only one left on the plane.

Awkward.

Samantha then stopped and stood to the side at the door so I could leave.

"Thank you for travelling with us. Hope to see you soon again on Atlantic Airlines." I took a step forward and turned to her,

"Thank you."

She smiled again for like the hundredth time today. I gave her a small wave and then I walked out of the plane through the tunnel thing and looked through the glass window.

It was a very sunny day and I remember my friends back in America who always used to argue that it always rained in England. I smiled at that little memory. I sighed and picked up my pace a little.

At the baggage area it was actually quite busy for a Sunday morning. There were people running around grabbing bags, there were people on their phones, people hugging family and friends and there were little kids standing on the side waiting for their parents patiently.

Stereotypically British kids are well behaved. I noticed my bags coming round so I leaned in to grab it. But knowing me, I obviously missed. I sighed because I knew I had to wait for it to come round again. But I was wrong.

A strong muscular arm reached out ahead of me and grabbed my bag for me and held it in front of me.

"I'm guessing this is yours," I heard a voice say.

It was a strong British accent, one that I quite liked. It wasn't posh or snobby, however you could tell that he was well off from the way he spoke. I took my bag gratefully and looked up to thank the person who gave it to me.

He smiled at me and I felt my cheeks heat up slightly as I looked glanced over at his features .

He had scruffy brown hair and perfectly tanned skin. He was in good shape, I had to give him that; with his muscles slightly visible with the help of his fitted shirt. He definitely had a six pack or something of the sort.

But what captured my attention most were the pair of sea green eyes that shimmered with liveliness and a hint of mischief. His eyes were like a mixture of deep green and a hint of blue that could be mistaken for grey. They were mesmerising.

Your eyes remind me of  my mother's.

"They do?"

Oh krispy kremes! I said that out loud. All I could think about was food since I hadn't eaten a crumb on the plane as I was in a deep sleep; and the fact that plane food is just inedible.