One Long Flight 💙

Hour One

"Are you going to continue to tap the seat and shake your leg like that the entire flight, Aisling?" Chris inquired, breaking the silence between them.

Aisling halted her movements and turned toward him, her expression a mixture of irritation and discomfort. "It's Aisling. Like Ash-ling. Ling. There's a 'g'. Not leen. You can just call me Ais if it's easier; everyone usually does. And I'm sorry. I hate flying."

Chris let out a sigh, feeling the tension in the air. "For one, we just took off. For two, I'm sorry, Aisling." He emphasized her name properly this time, earning a nod of approval from her.

She groaned softly, "Thank you. And I know. I really hate flying. Gives me terrible anxiety. You would think as often as I've done it, it would be better but, nope."

He nodded in understanding, his hand gently resting on hers. "It does that to me too. Just breathe, okay?"

Aisling felt a mix of nervousness and comfort at his touch. She withdrew her hand from the armrest, placing both of them in her lap. "How do you look so calm then?"

Chris let out a chuckle, "I'm an actor. It's kind of my job to feel one thing but act another."

Her lips curved into a soft smile, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. He motioned for a flight attendant, getting their attention. "Can I get two whiskeys, please?"

The flight attendant smiled and nodded before walking away to fulfill the request.

"Thanks," Chris acknowledged.

Returning the nod, Aisling's smile widened slightly, a rare sight for the flight so far. As the flight attendant returned with their drinks, Aisling accepted hers with gratitude, lifting it in a small toast. "Whiskey helps a bit though. So thanks."

"Okay then," Chris responded with a grin. "You're welcome. And you're right. Why don't we decide right now not to lie to each other for the entire flight?"

Aisling agreed with a nod. "Deal. Thanks." She sighed, her tone laced with regret. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you wanted to sleep or something on the flight."

Chris nodded, his expression understanding. "I have some scripts to read."

"I'll try not to bother you." Aisling pulled her purse onto her lap, rifling through its contents, her frustration palpable.

Chris's sigh prompted her to share what was bothering her. "What?"

With a frustrated toss of her purse onto the floor, she admitted, "Nothing."

"Aisling," Chris's voice took on a more authoritative tone, causing her to turn and face him. She wasn't sure whether to find his commanding tone funny or attractive. 

Letting out a resigned sigh, she responded, "I forgot my headphones."

Chris reached into his pocket and produced an iPod, offering it to her. "Here, you can borrow this as long as you're quiet."

Aisling raised an eyebrow in surprise. "An iPod? Do they still make those? How old are you?"

A chuckle escaped from Chris as he extended the device toward her. "Do you want it or not?"

She nodded with a teasing smile, taking the offered iPod. "I do. Thank you."

He watched her as she scrolled through the iPod before pressing play. She leaned back in her seat, facing the window, and everything fell silent. With a sigh, he pulled out a script from his bag and attempted to focus. However, his concentration was short-lived as he heard her humming to herself, a sound that managed to coax a laugh from him. Her head turned in response to his laughter, her big green eyes meeting his gaze. From just a glance, he could tell she was in turmoil—emotionally, mentally. There was something substantial bothering her, something she was struggling to hide behind her usual demeanor. As an actor, he had a knack for understanding people, seeing through their façades. Despite her outward appearance of being high-strung and put-together, he saw the signs of a mess beneath the surface. He shook his head, realizing he wouldn't be getting any work done on this flight.

Aisling shifted her attention to him, noticing his annoyance. "I'm sorry, Chris."

He shook his head, a half-smile forming. "It's fine." As she removed an earbud, he gestured for her to talk. "Talk to me, Aisling. I don't know anything about you. Where are you from? Are you American? Sorry to ask, but your accent's a bit tricky to place sometimes. And I overheard you on the phone earlier, speaking to your dad?" Her laughter, the first genuine sound from her since their interaction began, made him smile.

"I do have American citizenship, and I was born in America. But I also hold citizenship in England and Ireland. My dad is from Ireland, and my mum is from England. He went to London for school, fell in love, and stayed for her. When they got pregnant, they moved to New York where I was born. When I went to college, they moved back to London and brought my grandmother Mary, my father's mother, to live with them."

He sensed a moment of hesitation in her, a shadow crossing her eyes. "Ais?" he prompted gently.

Shaking her head, she continued, "So, I travel between the three countries quite a bit. I live in New York, though." Emptying her glass, she raised it slightly. "When I'm flustered, angry, or sometimes when I've been drinking, another accent comes out. It's a bit of a mystery even to me. Growing up, I was exposed to both accents in the house, alongside being raised in America."

Chris laughed. "It seems to hop around. That's interesting, though. What do you do in New York?"

She let out a sigh, her gaze distant. "Right now, I'm a curator at the MoMA. I went to Cambridge for a dual degree in History and Art History. Art History resonated with me more."

"Wow, that's impressive. Why Cambridge?"

A shrug accompanied her response. "My parents were in London. I wanted to be close to them. They met in Cambridge, and since they were both there, it felt like the right choice."

Chris nodded, his curiosity piqued. "That's cool. How old are you?"

Aisling chuckled, her tone playful. "Isn't that usually a no-no for you to ask a woman?"

He chuckled in return, nodding. "Maybe in normal situations. But we did agree on total honesty, Aisling."

She scoffed with a smirk, shaking her head. "True. Well, I'm 33. And you?"

He shrugged casually. "I'm 35, or I will be. I'm from Boston. I was in New York for work, and I'm headed to London for work as well. I'll be there for two weeks, attending a press tour and a premiere. What about you? Why are you traveling to London? Why is it so important for you to get there?"

Aisling groaned, shifting her gaze back to the window, reinserting the earbud. "None of your business."

Chris's brows furrowed, a determined glint in his eyes. Swiftly, he reached for the iPod in her hand, along with the headphones. "Well, if you're not willing to have an honest conversation, I'm taking this back."

She shot him an incredulous look, her irritation evident. "You're such a jerk!"

Before he could retort, the flight attendant returned to their area, hushing their conversation. "I'm sorry. Can we get more drinks, please?" Chris noticed her glancing at them once more before giving a friendly smile and nodding, then walking away. He looked back at Aisling, her face still flushed from anger. With a shrug, he commented, "It's mine. I thought we were aiming for complete honesty here."

Aisling scoffed, her defiance clear. "Fine! I'll just annoy you for the next 6 hours."

Chris laughed, unfazed. "I have siblings and a niece and nephews. Annoy away, Aisling." Her audible huff only elicited more laughter from him. Placing his headphones on, he leaned his head back against the seat, ready to endure the playful banter.