My Queen || Tom Holland

Chapter 8

Tom and I are packed and checked out of the hotel and we just arrived at the airport. Tom says that Marvel paid for our flight back, so we don't need to worry about it. He also said it'll be another private jet, so there are certain employees that do those flights that will find us at the counter. We walk in and up to the main counter for special services. "Hello, can I help you?" The man behind the counter asks. He doesn't have a French accent, not even a little. Which caught my attention immediately, but Tom doesn't seem to notice. "Hi, yes, um we have a jet for Tom Holland and Xena Russel." Tom tells them. "Ah yes. I will have someone take you to it. Just hold on one second." He responds with a smile. He then turns and picks up a phone and makes a call. A few minutes later some other workers come up to us. "Hello! We're here to lead you to your jet." One of the women tell us. She doesn't have even the slightest accent either. What is going on here. They work in a French airport and none of them have accents. All the other workers do. "Great, thanks!" Tom cheers, still not picking up on it. I tighten my grip on the handle of my suitcase but act natural. "Follow us please." The other worker says, no accent either. I don't feel comfortable getting on this jet, but I need to tell Tom without the workers noticing. We start following them and I make sure I'm at the very back so I can drop something where there aren't a lot of people. I'm doing it so that when we get to the jet, I'll get Tom to come back with me to get it and we'll go on a different plane. As we walk into a small hallway that will take us onto the tarmac, I grab my phone from my pocket and a scarf from my carry on bag. There's no one in here, so this is a good place to drop it. I wrap my phone in the scarf so it won't make a noise when I drop it, and drop it behind me on the ground. I hear it land with a soft poof. I need a different phone anyway, and a phone is something you would notice is gone, so it will make sense that I'd want to go back for it. Plus, I downloaded anything I want off it onto Toms laptop, so if I lose it or decide to get rid of it here, it won't matter. But how do I get me and Tom to leave WITH our suitcases without seeming suspicious. We walk onto the tarmac and approach the jet. Time to start acting. "Shit! My phone! I don't have it. I must've dropped it!" I exclaim, and start patting my pockets in fake panic. "What? How did you drop it?" Tom asks. "I don't know, but it was in my pocket and now it's not. Can you come back inside to look for it with me?" I ask him, and give him a begging look. "Sure. Can you guys wait for a few minutes? We shouldn't be long." Tom asks one of the female workers. "Sure. Would you like us to take your suitcases?" She questions. "No we're okay." I respond instantly. Tom gives me a confused look and I give him a look that should tell him to trust me. He nods. "We'll be right back. Thank you for waiting." I say. "No problem." The female responds. Tom walks up to me and I turn and start quickly walking back towards the doors we came out of. "What's going on?" Tom asks quietly. "We're at a French airport and none of those people had a French accent, not even a weak one. They're all Americans. And none of them had name tags on. You don't find that suspicious?" I explain, then we walk through the doors. "I didn't even notice." Tom says. I see my black scarf still wrapped around my phone on the floor where I dropped it. I run forward and grab it off the floor and unwrap it then put my scarf in my carry on and my phone in my pocket. "Wait, you purposely dropped your phone?" Tom questions. "Yeah. I needed to get you away from them so I could talk to you and this seemed like the easiest way to do it." I explain. He walks up and stands in front of me and puts his hands on either side of my face. "You are a genius." He compliments, then kisses me. I pull away and look out the window to where the jet is. One of the male workers is talking into an earpiece. "What is it?" Tom asks, and turns his head so he's looking where I am. The person who was just talking nods at the other workers and they start making their way here. "We need to go." I tell Tom. "Yup." He agrees, and we take each others hands and run down the hallway and into the busy room of people walking about. I spot bathrooms on the other side of the room. "I need to change. We can lose them in the crowd on our way to the bathrooms."I suggest. "Okay, lets go." He says, and we start weaving our way through the large crowd just as the workers come into the hallway. As we run I keep looking back to make sure they can't see us. We make it to the bathrooms, but the ones in this part of the airport are one person because most people wait till they've made it through security to use the washroom. But Tom can't wait outside in case the people see him, so he's got to come in. "They're one person." Tom mentions and stops outside. "So?" I ask. "So, you're changing. I don't want to invade your privacy." He says. "Jesus christ Tom. Now is not the time. I've changed in front of you before, and a bra and underwear are no different than a bikini and you've seen me in one of those. If you stay out here and they see you, who knows what will happen, so stop acting like a child and come in the washroom." I say, and open the door and walk in, pulling him in behind me. Once we're both in I lock the door and let go of Toms hand so I can get my suitcase onto the counter. I lay it down and open it and start looking for clothes that are less noticeable than the blue jeans, black shirt, and red leather jacket that I'm wearing. I know I wasn't wearing those earlier. I changed into them when we went back to the hotel. I get out black Nike leggings and a gray Nike sweater and put them on the counter. I then grab a black hat, a pair of white sneakers, and my reading glasses and put them beside my clothes on the counter. Tom is leaning on the far wall on my right. I step back, slide my jacket off, then pull my shirt over my head, exposing my navy blue, lace bra. I can feel Toms eyes scan over my chest, but I don't care. I do the same thing to him. But I can tell he's trying his best to not stare. "I can feel you staring." I tease, then pull on the sweater. "Sorry." He says awkwardly. "Don't be. I do the same thing to you when you don't have a shirt on." I say, looking over at him and smirking. He breaths out a laugh and smiles. I kick off my Adidas sneakers, then undo the button and fly on my pants, take my phone out and put it on the counter and pull them off, showing my matching underwear. I pick up the items and put them in my suitcase along with my jacket and shirt. I feel Tom staring again as I reach for the leggings. "Tom." I say. "Sorry." He responds. "It's fine. But we're just in a difficult situation here and if you keep staring it's going to lead to something we don't have time for." I tell him, and wiggle into my leggings. "Well, this situation is being a cock-block." He complains. "I thought you wanted to take things slow." I remind him, then sit on the ground to pull on and tie up my shoes. "I do. But it's hard when you always look so beautiful and tempting." He confesses. "Wow, you're such a flirt." I joke, and tie up my last shoe and stand up. "Hey, I'm just saying the truth." He puts his hands up in defense. I just laugh and tuck my other shoes into my suitcase and close it and zip it up. Tom hands me my glasses and puts my hat on my head. "Thanks." I say, and place my glasses on my face, then pull my hood up over the hat, but the lip still sticks out.