Where You Are

Toronto

Jesse

She was hesitant when we reached the first-class lounge.

'I'm not dressed for this!' She protested.

'It's three o'clock in the morning in an airport,' I reminded her. 'It doesn't matter how you're dressed.'

She was absolutely adorable. She looked perfect just the way she was in my opinion. Still, she pulled off the Blue Jays cap and stowed it in her rucksack before fixing up her hair a bit.

'I've never been in a first-class lounge before,' she admitted.

'Don't worry about it,' I assured her, I would have taken her hand and led her in, but I didn't want to freak her out. I was a touchy person, it was almost second nature for me to want to touch her. But I felt like I'd barely got her to agree to come this far with me. I didn't want to push it.

She followed me in. I flashed my airline ID to the girl behind the desk and she nodded to me, waving Birgitta and I through.

'See? Nothing to it,' I told her.

I did put my hand on her arm and led her to a seating area near a window with a perfect view of the runway.

Her mouth was hanging open as she took it all in. I'd been in this particular lounge only a few times before and only long enough to grab a cup of tea or a snack before getting on the next airplane.

It was very nice, as far as lounges went. There was a massive variety of hot drinks and snacks, comfortable chairs and tables to sit at, even areas for sleep and showers if you wanted. I wasn't interested in sleep or a shower anymore. I just wanted to soak up every minute I could spent with this fascinating woman before we had to return to our own worlds.

'Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?' I asked her, gesturing to the table with the drink machines.

'Uh... tea, please,' she replied, slipping her rucksack off her shoulders.

'Milk? Sugar?' I asked, reaching for two mugs and pouring us each a cup.

'Yeah, both please,' she said.

I fixed our drinks and then brought them back to the little table by the window. She pulled her hoodie off and sat down, accepting the mug I was offering her. She was wearing a plain, black t-shirt underneath and I could see that both of her arms were almost covered in black ink. I couldn't resist a woman with tattoos, and hers were stunning. I was dying to get a better look at them.

'I feel so out of place here,' she told me, biting her lip.

'Don't worry about it,' I waved a hand. 'Now, tell me about your tattoos, you definitely have more than I do. This one looks new.'

I indicated to one on her left upper arm that still had a clear, plastic covering on it.

'Oh, yeah, I just got that one a few days ago,' she touched it. 'It's a thistle, you know, because I was in Scotland.'

'Whoever did it did a good job,' I said still examining it. 'What about this one?'

It was an English rose on her left forearm. I knew exactly what it was, but wanted her to tell me about it.

'That was my first tattoo,' she said, touching it softly. 'I got it when I was eighteen, on the first trip I ever took by myself.'

'Where did you go?' I asked her.

'London, actually,' she said, not cottoning on that I already knew the answer. 'It was the first time I'd flown on an airplane. I'd just moved out of my parents house and wanted to see a bit of the world before I started university.'