Samuel sat in the plush leather seat of first class, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm against the polished wooden armrest. Outside the window, the muted sunlight had given way to a churning mass of dark, roiling clouds. The plane shuddered slightly as it climbed higher, the unsettling jolt a stark reminder of the turbulent storm raging beyond the aircraft's sturdy shell. He glanced out looking at the top of the clouds, where flashes of jagged lightning could be seen jumping from one cloud to the next, casting an eerie shadows across the cabin with each burst of spark.
The flight attendants moved through the aisle, their usual serene expressions now taut with the effort to remain composed. With each rumble of thunder that resonated like a giant's growl, Samuel felt his stomach churn. The storm's fury was palpable, a malevolent force that rattled the fuselage and sent a tremor of fear skittering down his spine. He swallowed hard, his heart racing as he gripped the armrests tighter, the smooth leather now slick beneath his clammy palms. The only fear he has not yet beaten, is the storm while flying.
As the turbulence intensified, the cabin crew sprang into action, moving with a practiced grace that belied the fear threading through their expressions. A stewardess named Julie navigated the cramped aisles, her dark red uniform crisp against the chaos swirling around her. Despite her best efforts, her brown eyes betrayed the unease that clung to her like the weight of the storm beyond the aircraft's walls. Each jolt felt like an earthquake beneath her feet, and yet she forced a warm smile, determined to reassure the passengers who clung tightly to their seats.
Julie balanced a bowl of steaming hot towels in her hands, the fragrant scent of lavender and mint mingling with the sterile air. As she approached Dr. Graves' aisle, she noticed him—one of first class's more distinguished patrons—his knuckles white as he gripped the armrest, his eyes darting between the window and the incessantly turbulent skies.
"Sir, Dr. Graves may I offer you a hot towel?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremors in her body. The words felt rehearsed, a lingering instinct from years of navigating anxious flights, and memorizing the first-class customers. She leaned closer, the faintest hint of warmth creeping into her gaze. He was handsome in an academic sort of way, with an air of intensity about him that only seemed to amplify in moments of stress.
Gradually, Dr. Graves turned from the window, his storm-darkened eyes meeting hers. There was something striking about the way she stood, almost defiant against the turbulence, an oasis of calm amidst the brewing storm. "That would be... nice," he managed, his voice thick with anxiety. He released the armrest, taking the towel she offered, fingers grazing hers briefly—a brief electric moment that sent an unexpected rush through him.
"Flying isn't always easy, is it?" Mia attempted a lighter tone, though her smile quirked with the weight of the storm outside. "But we'll be on the ground soon, and I promise, it'll all be behind us, just a bit longer."
"Sooner would be much appreciated," he said, the corners of his mouth curving in response to her reassuring presence. As she stood there, he couldn't shake the sensation of wanting to draw her closer, to banish the fear that lingered in both of them with their shared warmth.
"Just focus on something else," she advised, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Maybe a favorite book or... the view outside, or better yet someone back home?" But as she spoke, she caught herself studying the contours of his face, the way his brow furrowed with concentration. There was a magnetic quality in how her heart raced slightly each time their gazes intertwined.
Dr. Graves felt an unsettling mix of gratitude and desire churn inside him. Something about this woman—her confidence in the face of chaos, her warm smile—was unnervingly captivating. "I might prefer to focus on something... more engaging," he replied, his voice unexpected in its low timbre. "You could show me how you keep calm in the storm, perhaps." his voice drifting off.
YOU ARE READING
Shadow of the Mind
General FictionA FBI Agent, working a high Profile Serial Killer case, finds out that her own past is tied to the killers. Will she catch him in time, before he strikes again.
