No Romo

Fortnight

Ava didn't really care for vacations. She loved getting away of coarse, but she couldn't relate to the people who started counting down the days from their last trip. The coffee shop was where she wanted to be most of the time. She usually chose to work overtime on Fridays when she was supposed to have an off day, naturally leading to loads of extra vacation time at her disposal. Carter had been offered an opportunity to photograph in a small town in England. It would take two weeks, meaning two weeks of free food, accommodation, and entertainment, all to an extent of coarse.

Off days, plane tickets, sightseeing tours and everything else had been arranged. It was finally the big day. They left the Uber driver in the parking lot and strolled through the airport doors. Neither flew often, but Carter had gotten quite the recommendation for his photography skills, and they would be flying business class. Not a bad place to be for a six hour flight.

Check bags. Go through security. Unsuccessfully try to find a present for Carter's colleague. Buy gum. Rush to the gate. Board. Sit down, and—

H o l y s h i t

They were not joking around when they designed the business class seats. Ava excitedly took inventory of every compartment and button, and within five minutes, she had found places to stow away each of her belongings. Carter simply observed all this and much more calmly found each of the hidden away spaces for his bags.

Shrek. Dinner. Shrek 2. Solitaire. Maybe we should sleep? Ladies and gentlemen, as we make our descent, lease make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you.

After getting their bags and an hour and a half drive, Ava Carter stepped into Premier Inn in Weekes, England. They got their keys, and Carter went through a few lines of small talk with the receptionist.

"It's been a really busy week. You're lucky you've booked a room so early; the whole hotel's full."

"Well this is a beautiful town, no wonder everyone's coming here."

"You should have seen it last month! All the flowers were blooming around then. It was spectacular."

"It sounds spectacular. Well then, we have to get going. It's been nice chatting with you."

As they stepped into the elevator, Ava smirked. "That was the most boring conversation I've ever witnessed. We're you inspired by British food?"

"Oh my GOD, Ava. British food isn't bland, it's really good."

"Sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of flavorlessness."

"Tomorrow we're going to get meat pies and sticky toffee pudding and when you taste it, you will realize that you're a complete idiot."

"Well I guess I'll never realize then because they have no taste." Carter raised an eyebrow in an attempt to look menacing. "Okay, fine, fine. British food isn't that bad."

"Repeat after me." He took a step closer and stood up straight. "British food is fucking amazing, and I'll never disrespect it again, especially because my country's national dish is pink slime in grease."

Ava copied him teasingly. "At least the national dish of America came from America. Yours is chicken tikka masala, which, if I remember correctly, is from a country that the British starved and disempowered."

"Yeah, that's fair," Carter sighed. He let his posture relax a bit, so they weren't at such an awkward height distance. "But American food is still garbage."

Ava took another step forward, and stood up in her tip-toes. They were nearly chest to chest and eye to eye. "You must love garbage then."

Carter took the final step and fully closed the gap. His leather jacket brushed against her sweatshirt strings, and he leaned in enough so that they were gently pinned against her. "Yeah, I do love you," he whispered.

Ava stared into his eyes.

"Well I mean, who doesn't?" she said, but neither one payed attention to it.Their noses were nearly touching, and she could feel his cinnamon gum scented exhale against her lips. They could be anywhere in the world, but here they stood alone in this elevator, centimeters from each other with Carter's cinnamon breath and her own strawberry breath. There it was again. The sweet but savory, almost spicy breeze that danced across her face. It sauntered over her cheeks and ears, caressed her hair, and lingered in her nose.

Ava touched a finger to his lightly parted mouth, and opened her own. There were no other people in the elevator, but even if there were, they wouldn't have heard what Ava said. She draw her finger down, so her hand floated at his collarbone. In a burst of confidence, she let it rest, palm pressed against him and whispered, "Your breath smells like shit."

With that, she pushed, sending Carter stumbling backwards. And just like that, Carter was right where he'd been seconds ago. He took another step forward so that Ava had no choice but to move too. Her back pressed against the wall, and Carter leaned in so far that she couldn't stand on her tip-toes, leaving her eyes right below his nose. Still, she looked up, taking in his entire face.

Carter's expression had changed from a few seconds before. The joking was gone. It was intense, serious. It wasn't satisfied with bobbing a few centimeters away anymore. Even with the feeling nearly overwhelming Carter, he still had some sense left. Ava's sweatshirt was primarily made of cotton and therefore easily stretched. So instead of what his instincts first told him, he put his hands around her waist and lifted her to exactly his level instead of dramatically—or as some would say, passionately—grabbing her collar. He moved in as far is he could until he hardly had to hold her up as his body prevented her from falling.

Carter strategically let Ava's mouth hover around his cheek. If their lips connected now, it would ruin the satisfaction he was building up to.

"Ava Chloe Johnson." Carter's eyes bore into hers. Emotions were coursing through him, and he had no intention of stopping them. Now was the moment. He had been waiting for this for what felt like a lifetime. The moment where he fully and truly won. There would be sarcastic remark at the end, no final word. This was the final word. Because Carter knew what Ava wanted from every 'argument' they had, and her goal wasn't to convince him. It was the adrenaline rush of the moment, and now he would give Ava the most intense rush she'd ever felt.

Carter took a breath to steady himself. Even a quivering word would spoil this, and he couldn't waste this moment. He said the words over in his head and finally breathed them out, giving life to the thoughts that had been controlling him.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

Ava struggled to keep her face straight but to no avail. The corners of her mouth seemed to move on their own accord, pushing up and finally letting a grin encapsulate her. "You heard me."

Carter stepped back and let her fall to the floor. "I am chewing cinnamon gum right now, also known as the best tasting gum in the world, so I think you need to take that back."

But he had been right. Ava felt no need to win this anymore. "You know what Carter? I will. But don't let it get to your head."

The elevator dinged and they walked out as if nothing had happened at all.

Ava and Carter go To Weekes for Two Weeks, and Ava thinks British food is Too Weak :)