undercover

Part 4: Goodbye?

Three years before the present day...

The belt sign illuminated, and the speaker crackled, making Azael sit straight.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign. We are now crossing a zone of turbulence, please return to your seats and keep your seat belts fastened. Thank you."

No matter how many flights you have boarded, how many turbulences you have tumbled through, most of us find our blood cells marching up to our ears when we hear that announcement. And when faced with this familiar perturbation yet again, Azael caught a glimpse of Her before darkness covered his vision.

The flight was happily bounding away without a care in the world while its passengers were getting their brains scrambled. If all hell's going to break lose there's no harm in making things worse, is there? The baby in the front seat launched right into a mournful wail, and whether it was about milk, shit or discomfort, no one knows, and I don't think anyone cared why while being tossed about like a bag of peanuts. Being so up in the sky, heaven didn't seem so far off.

But the cries slowed to a whimper as the plane regained some form of composure, and Azael found his eyes searching for Her again. For reasons unknown, the sight of her sent relief flooding through him, coupled with amusement. At the moment, she had one of the most interesting facial expressions a face could ever wear. She had been trying to cheer the child up and in a rattling aircraft with her body strapped onto the seat, she'll have to use her face, right? And that's exactly what she did. Once assured of the success of her attempt, Her gaze rose to meet his, as if she too was looking for him, unconsciously. Her face snapped back into serenity, and she quickly averted her eyes. Azael made sure she had seen him grin before she did so.

The thought of her taking note of the child even while being tossed into almighty's arms was admirable and he'll find himself admitting this in a matter of hours.

Stolen glances and secret grins made the 8-hour journey seem like a minute.

Azael waited till everyone left, a recipient of frequent glances from Her, and then with one, supposedly, last nod at the exit door, Azael made his way down the airstair.

At the very bottom, he turned to look at Her, knowing that the next time they met on a flight, they'd be back to familiar strangers and nothing more. She stood by the door, face marred by her hair swept in strands across her face by the breeze. With that, he turned and walked away- from the lit runway, the enormous craft, and the maiden.

He made his way to his regular dine-in at the airport, burger, and lobster, revelling in the sights of the Changi airport, a sight no one will ever tire of seeing. Azael feasted on the splendour of the oculus, his habit of marching through time and space giving way to an amble, to soak in the lavish beauty of the locale.

He got his sketchbook out and started sketching the masterpiece born from hewn glass, choosing to sit in the butterfly garden.
He had never been here during the night before, and although sunbeams trickling in through the ice like the sculpture is a sight for the heavens, Changi at night is a sight that could shatter hell.

Lost in thoughts of beauty and sin, he fell asleep by a bench on the floor, sketchbook and pencil slipping away from his fingers.

As he was floating off into slumber, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, although currently vulnerable and honestly adorable, our man, not one to let down his guard for too long, sprang back into action.
Only to be greeted by Her sheepish smile. Yes, Hers.

The hazel eyes steadily gazing into his, revealed mirth as she pulled him up onto his feet. And there they stood, both wanting more of the undeniable leccy they felt with each other.