Beautiful Wilting Flowers

Shopping In Tokyo

Liana POV:

A bright light...ow, it's like when your mother's trying to get you to get up on a weekend that you definitely deserve, but wants to force a morning hike on you... anyone ever experienced that? Just me?

I realize it's just the light from the plane window, and I fell asleep on Deans shoulder, and he stuffed his hoodie on his shoulder so that I wouldn't get a stiff neck. Those are the worst.

"Oh- sorry, Dean, I was so tired I didn't even realize-" I yawn. "Thanks. Sorry."

"No problem." He laughs, but it sounds forced.

I raise my eyebrow, noticing that something's wrong.

"What's up?" I cock my head to the side.

"Well," He shrugs grumpily, "... How did you sleep like that? The loud toilets kept me up all night. I was like the toilet guard. Any person coming in and out, I'd glare at, try to scare them off, and it didn't work, they still went in to take a dump, when they would open the door the smell would come wafting out, and by then it was too late anyways because I was already awake." He huffs.

I wince at his cringey yet amusing story.

"I am so sorry." I laugh. "But that's kind of hilarious."

"Tell Heyden I won." Dean rolls his neck, making a horrifying crack. "That definitely beat me complaining about plane food the entire time."

"I will." I laugh. "Not for you, but because I'm a fair loser." I stick out my tongue, and he doesn't have the energy to retaliate before his head drops suddenly, but snaps back up.

"I am so sleepy." His fists clench up angrily.

"Hey. Um," I pull down the window sliding thing, making the little space a lot dimmer. "Just try to get a bit of sleep." I unbuckle my seat belt.

"Hey- What are you doing?" He squints, tired for the first time in his life that I've ever seen him.

I reach over and unbuckle his too, and climb over him and into the aisle.

"Switch seats." I say, and when he doesn't make an effort to move, I purse my lips. "Come on, go." I wave my hand. He slides over, and I slide in beside him again. We both buckle our seat belts, and Dean makes a face at me.

"Um, I'm confused. What did that do?" He asks, his head tilting to the side in a little confusion. He's not the brightest bulb when he's half asleep.

"You won't believe me, but on that side it's actually better. Here, " I hand him some earplugs. " I think you'll be able to sleep with those."

Actually, I have no clue if that side is better or not, but he'll believe it's true; he's too tired not to.

"Thanks, Lia." He smiles lopsidedly and tiredly, and slumps off against the wall in slumber.

Lia? You know what, he's tired, I won't ask. This better not come to be a regular nickname. I mean, it's not a bad one (It's better than Greigh's for me; he calls me Ana. That's the last part of my name, and makes no sense!), but we have a rivalry to maintain. It's not easy being this fabulously witty.

A few hours pass by that I spend watching Umbrella Academy Netflix episodes I saved (Yes, Dean, I thought of that too), and before I know it, were almost off of the plane.

I hate to wake Dean after seeing how tired he was, but were about to land, and I don't want him stiffening his neck like he saved me from.

"Dean," I tap his shoulder. When he doesn't wake, I shake him a little. "Dean!"