Afire Love// ed sheeran

Reunited

//Hey everybody. It's Alyssa again with another chapter of Afire Love. I hope you enjoy. Have a wonderful day and remember to vote and comment.//

I spent the day in my room huddled in front of a suitcase, folding my clothes in neat squares, placing it in my bag. My flight wasn't for a week but I was too amped up to waste a minute. I spent the week searching up places to visit during my trip, the hotels I would be staying in, local hangouts for tourists. I packed and repacked my bag, first organizing the bag by outfit but then color coordinating the clothes. I packed the small travel sizes of lotion, shaving cream, and toothpaste in a small pouch in the front pocket of my carry on bag. I did absolutely anything possible to make the days go faster.

It was Saturday, the day of the flight. The sun had just risen, shining bright rays over my pillow and I jumped out of bed. My flight was at 4:00, an 8 hour flight to France where it would be noon when I landed. My flight was from LaGuardia Airport, a 20 minute taxi ride from my apartment. I had already changed some of my money from US currency to a pile of Euros and Australian currency. It was packed in seperate pouches, each labeled and placed in my duffle bag. I was beyond prepared.

I cooked myself some scrambled eggs and huffed down the food quickly, washing the dish in my small sink. After washing my dishes, I went back to my room and sifted through my closet to get my traveling outfit ready. I picked out a pair of black skinny jeans and a white shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror above my dresser. My hair was knotty, pulled into a bun on the top of my head. I looked like a mess so I gathered my clothes and headed to the shower.

***

I spent my morning cleaning my apartment, getting rid of any perishables that would be bad by the time I returned home from my trip. I made my bed, put away all the dirty dishes, swept the hard wood floor that ran through all of the four rooms of my apartment, and dusted all of the furniture.

By the time I was finished cleaning my apartment, it was one o'clock. I wanted to make it to the airport early so I could check in early and beat the crowd. I lugged my two bags down the two flights of stairs and out the entrance of my apartment building. Outside the air was cool, the sun bright over the New York atmosphere. People walked down the street, walking their pets or holding hands with lovers. I could hear children laughing loudly, playing with friends while they procrastinated about school, their little minds free of worry or regret. I dragged my bags down the marble steps of my apartment building and walked to the street cornee, sticking my long, pale arm straight to hail a yellow cab. A yellow car screeched in front of me, narrowly missing my outstreched arm. I opened the back door of the car and chucked my luggage into the seat next to me.

"LaGuardia airport," I instructed the taxi drivee, his shiny honey face I could see in the rearview mirror. He nodded his head and started driving.

***

I plopped my two bags on the conveyor belt, pulling off the black flats off. I hugged Ed's shirt close to my body as I pulled of my necklace and earrings. Ed's shirt was a sort of comfort item, something that reminded me of him when I was in uncomfortable or unfamiliar surroundings. I went through the xray machine, a machine used to scan me for anything that could be potentially dangerous or prohibited on my flight whether it be a weapon or just a bottle of liquid that didn't meet the air regulations.

Once I was cleared through the machine, I pulled my shoes on, my locket and earrings. I received my bags from the end of the conveyor belt and went to my designated boarding area, section 12B. There was a man in a business suit, typing away on his laptop, probably heading to France for some important meeting for his business. A woman with a plump baby bump sat next to her husband, their hands intertwined as they talked about what they wanted to do during the vacation.

I sat in a plastic chair, across from a wall of windows that overlooked the landing strip where planes loaded and unloaded their human shipments. I placed the ear buds in my ear and turned up the music to pass the minutes until it was time to board the plane.

An announcement went over the intercom and I paused the music to listen. "Flight 287 to France is now boarding. All business class passengers make your way to terminal 12B and show your ticket so you can board." I placed my phone in the front pocket of my bag and took out the boarding pass in the same pocket. I showed my ticket to the woman dressed in a blue suit and matching hat and heels. She scanned the ticket and ushered me into a hall that lead to the plane. I followed a woman who was fumbling with her bags. One bag had a zipper that just wouldn't close completely and she looked flustered. Her face was red, her ponytail coming out. I reached over and polietly tugged the zipper shut. She offered me a warm smile, grateful that I helped her with her mini break down. We boarded the plane.

I was in seat 20E-S. It was a window seat in business class and the woman who sat next to me looked kind. She kept her baggage to herself, unfolding the mini desk on the back of the seat infront of her. She set her notebook atop the desk and got lost in her writing the entire flight. The flight attendants went over the safety procedures and precautions in case of- god forbid- an in-flight emergency. Before I knew it, I was listening to music on my headphone, peaking out the clouds that scattered the sky below us.

***

Ed and I never discussed who would be picking me up from the airport and after the 8 hour flight and a long sleep, I assumed that he would send someone. He was Ed Sheeran for crying out loud. He didn't need paparazzi all day, every day. So once the flight landed, I took my baggage from the overhead compartment. I yawned and wiped the sleep out of my eyes as I walked out of the plane. I was officially in France, Paris to be exact. I made it to the airport and people speaking french surrounded me. I read the signs, which had english written under the french, that directed me to the pick up area. I showed my passport to a man in a french army uniform. He pointed me to where I needed to go, a simple escalator ride down and I would be left to find my ride.

As I was riding down the elevator, I looked around for my name on a sign. When I spotted it, I spotted something else that made me smile. His red hair, blue eyes, grey sweater. Ed was picking me up and a full smile spread across my cheeks, hurting my cheeks. Ed made his way to the escalator, a smile on his pretty lips. As I made it off the escalator, I ran towards Ed, laughing as he caught me in his arms. His arms wrapped around my waist, my arms around his neck.

"Nice shirt," he whispered, his lips inches from my ear. I smiled.

"I got it from a friend," I laughed. We were reunited at last. We made our way out the airport to a car, Ed carrying the heavier of my two bags.

It was time to make memories, go on adventures, make a name for myself.

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