The Divorce

48

I took a step forward when an iron clasp of a grip wrapped around my upper arm halting me. For a moment I thought my bag was caught on something, but I didn't have a bag on me. 

I looked over my shoulder and found myself staring at Gabriel that was somewhat leaning forward, half in the aisle, half in the aisle, blocking the ten people behind him.  

"What are you doing?" Gabriel asked, not at all bothered that people were waiting behind us, and somewhat giving us angry and irritated stares.  

"I'm sitting, like you told me to?" I asked confused. Wasn't he just telling me that I was in his seat? Did he forget his instructions already? That wasn't very Gabriel. 

Gabriel's eyes flickered from mine to the middle seat, the window seat and then back at me. 

Then he leaned in, making me slightly tilt my head back as his face came closer to mine, too close. His jaw almost touched my shoulder as he leaned over me, his hair tickling my ear.

"Do you mind getting up so she can take her seat?"

The woman behind Gabriel tried squeezing past but couldn't and huffed asking if we could sit down faster. Gabriel ignored the voice as his eyes remained on I presume, the man behind me.  

"People are getting irritated," I whispered, with confidence that he would hear me when he was so close I could smell his aftershave. 

Gabriel's left arm was still clinging onto my right arm as he stayed leaned in. It almost felt like an entire minute before the man answered. 

"She can squeeze through," was the response from the man in the middle seat, and I didn't look over my shoulder but I was pretty sure he was chewing through the pie as he spoke. I heard the crunch. 

"I'll give you two options, get up, or I'll make you get up," Gabriel responded, leaning further, this time his chest meeting with the side of my left shoulder and I froze in spot, not even daring to move in case he yelled at me for touching him.

I could feel the warmth of his chest against my shoulder as the air con plunged into my face from the mini air con blowing things next to the lights above each seat. I hated flying. 

I was already overstimulated, with ten pairs of angry eyes on us waiting for us to unclog the aisle, as well as grubby fingers behind me muttering something. Gabriel somehow had the patience and calmness of a saint as he waited, not bothered at all with the commotion. 

I, on the other hand, wanted to melt away into a magazine that was tucked into the seat pockets. 

After a few grumbles from the man Gabriel finally stood, pulling away, his arm still around my upper arm as he stepped into the aisle, earning more groans from people behind him who had to take a step back, complaining this was taking too long.

'How hard is it to take a seat?'

'What the hell man, let us pass.'

He simply didn't care.

HIs arm nudged me outside into the cramped aisle and finally the man sauntered out, munching on the last few crumbs of his pie saying I could have easily climbed over. 

Maybe I should have climbed over and made sure I accidentally stepped on his crotch with my foot.

When he was finally out I rushed into my spot, almost tripping over the uneven flooring, too mortified from all the unwanted attention from everyone around us. Most looked compassionate, bar the ones in the aisle. 

I'm pretty sure this was a reasonable response, I highly doubt anyone would want to climb over another persons lap. 

I grabbed the stranger's phone from my seat throwing it onto his and let the dirty, smelly seats engulf me as I buckled up.