Quickies

Boarding

not MaiChard. something more personal. i'll leave it to you guys to make your minds and imagination wander. it could've or could've not happened. or perhaps wishful thinking for it to happen. nevertheless, still fiction, guys. just a story.

***

"My boarding time's at 2pm."

"Oh. Ok."

"That's in ... 20 minutes."

"Ok."

They sat across each other at the coffeeshop, silent amidst the busy airport terminal. People were either rushing to their gates or lounging around waiting for their boarding times.

This is one of the few times that they get to see each other. The airport has become their meeting place, albeit for only an hour or so. And that still seldom happens. She would either be arriving and he's leaving, or it's the other way around. Very rare do they get to have coffee and chat even for a few minutes before they rush off again to catch their connecting flights.

Two old friends, a few minutes together, then another month or two or a year in between before the moment happens again.

Technology paves the way for them to catch up. Online chats, emails. Never video or phone calls, though. They express more through written words, yet how little they really say about what they really feel.

Many years this has been going on. Ten years of friendship, even more so. They've been teased, of course, and not more than once has she considered the possibility. And she knows that at one point, he did consider them, too. But somehow, friendship and distance got in the way. They separated ways when he took a post elsewhere. She remained behind, and each time he chooses to leave and change course, never knowing what he really wants in his life, she cries and gets heart broken. She's getting tired of waiting, of hoping that he'll choose her.

So she settles for the chats and the airport moments before boarding. But she gets weary of these 60 or so minutes, because it makes it all too real that they're together yet they're not.

The amount of chatting and exchange online doesn't match those that they have when they face each other. She'd rather they stick to social media conversations than these meet-ups. They hardly talk, save for the 'how are you's' and 'how's work' and 'when's your next flight'.

But the tension is there. It's always been there. It remains and she knows he feels it, too. But they never talk about it. Never.

They are held back for a reason unknown that it frustrates her. So sometimes she just wishes for the minutes to hurry up and for the announcement of her name over the airport paging system, calling her as the last remaining passenger so that she can rush and escape and say their goodbyes that aren't really goodbyes because soon as she lands, she knows he'll be sending another mundane message complaining and lamenting about the place where he is or the people he's been observing.

"I think I better go. My gate's on the other side of the terminal."

"Hmm. Ok."

They stand, she picks up her back pack and starts walking. He follows her, keeping pace. She wishes he'd just go on to his gate like he always does, for it's getting harder for her to leave, feeling his presence beside her. She wants him to say something, but she also wants him to just turn around and let her keep walking on her own.

"Where's your gate?"

"It's just near."

"Well, shouldn't you be boarding, too?"

"A few more minutes."

"Then you'll have to run."

"I don't care."

"Boarding gates close ten minutes before the flight..."

"I said I don't care. Is there anything wrong if I walk you to the gate?!"

She stopped walking and looked at him. Sarcasm was her specialty, not his. He's never snapped at her before so this was a first.

"I'm just concerned that you'll be late for boarding and you'll blame me and you'll be complaining again when we chat later tonight, ok? It's getting too tiring reading your complaints!"

"So you do have a problem with me walking you to the gate?"

"That's not what I said!"

"Why can't we just savor these minutes we get to be together? Is it so wrong that I just don't want to leave you yet? That I don't want us to be apart again?"

They were now in front of her boarding gate. She could hear the flight crew announcing the seat rows that are next to board. She stares at him, unsure of how to respond to what he just said. With a sigh, she turned her back at him, getting more frustrated with how things seem to be falling apart between them. Ten minutes more before the flight, and she wishes that the plane takes off soon as she steps in. If she could just push the heartache out of the plane as it cruises at 39,000 feet, she would.

One last time, she looks back at him.

"Bye. Chat later?"

She didn't wait for him to answer as she fished out her passport and boarding pass to show to the airline crew. She then felt him pulling her back, turning her and wrapping his arms around her, his lips finding hers. She closed her eyes, surprised and unsure how to respond. He was kissing her, and at that moment everything else was a blur. Only their lips moving, his tongue seeking hers, as he sucked on her lower lip. She was responding along with the growing rhythm in her heart, and she could feel his own beating against hers as her hands were pressed against his chest.

She could hear faint clapping around them, some cat calls and cheers, making them move away from each other, along with the need for air.

He was looking at her gently, his eyes searching hers, somewhat fearing that she would be pushing him away. She bit her lower lip before closing in on him this time, giving him another kiss.

"I think I'm the last remaining passenger."

"We both are."

"Huh?"

"I'm getting on board with you."