Passengers || An Adrienette Fanfic

Chapter 11 || Heartbreaker

DON'T PLAY THE SONG YET 

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After changing into a white long-sleeved shirt and navy blue jeans, I entered the unoccupied cabin on the other end of the airplane, hands shaking and tears flowing freely down my cheeks. I set my bag on the edge of the bed, but the tears in my eyes caused me to miscalculate - leading my bag to fall. Everything rolled out and fell on the floor, some under the bed while others beneath the chair. I fell on my knees and cried my heart out, drenching the sleeves of my shirt. I felt so helpless and broken. I felt so completely and utterly stupid to believe I had a chance with him.

So.

Stupid.

I picked up the items that fell out of my bag and sat on the lazy boy; its plush interior caused me to relax. My dark blue eyes found the window, and stared out into the gloomy sky. My eyes started to fill up again with tears, but I wouldn't let them. I thought of home. Of Tikki and her fiery red hair. Of Papa and his hearty and booming laughter. I remembered Mama and the sweet and delicious cookies she baked for me for my birthday, and as if on cue, my stomach grumbled in response to the memory.

I got up and walked out of the cabin to get myself a bunch of cookies to snack on in bed as I cried and cried and cried.

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Where was she?

My frantic and nervous eyes scanned the area as my legs worked on autopilot, taking me to places I thought she would be. I checked the Economy section, the Business Class area, and the first half of the First Class area, and still no Marinette. The only places she could be in were either the food cabin, the bathrooms, or the other end of the airplane.

I decided to ask the flight steward, but I doubted that he would tell me anything. I climbed up the narrow staircase that lead me back up to the First Class, and there sat the steward. He looked... familiar.

Mainly because he looked like me.

Except that he had pale skin, light blueish-gray eyes, and very sleek and combed back hair. He had this "I-can-steal-your-girl-if-I-wanted-to" kind of look, and it honestly made me nervous. I slowly approached him, his serious eyes looked me up and down as if he could see the similarity - but the small grin that tugged on the side of his lip for a fraction of a second was probably as much emotion as he would show.

"Excuse me, but have you seen a blue haired girl around here. She's pretty small... and yeah," I said. 

"So you must be the fine lad she's been frantically trying to get away from, are you not?" drawled the steward, his words dripping with interest and a strong English accent.

"I guess so. So... have you seen her, sir...?" 

"Felix, sir. Felix Cassé, full French, but born and raised in England then I moved to the States to look for work - if you were wondering. Anyway, I'm sorry, sir, but we are not allowed to disclose any information about any passenger's whereabouts or their seat number. Although, she might be in the food cabin, stuffing herself with desserts to her heart's content. Quite interesting actually because our chef has refilled that table thrice in the past hour," said Felix. I'll be honest - the guy did look amazing (partly because he looked like me), but anger and frustration instantly rose up as he gave a small grin as he thought of Marinette. Oh you little -