On My Way Home (Scömìche)

E~ Go the Distance

It has been two years since I announced my love for him. It has been two years since I have seen him. My heart pounds in my chest as the plane taxis towards the gate. Soon I will see him again. I smile to myself and lean back into my seat, looking out the small window. I ran from my feelings because I was worried that I would hurt him, all of those years ago. Now, looking back, those were the worst years of my life. Discovering who I was; leaving to possibly change my feelings so I wouldn't hurt him or our friendship, only hurt him and me even more. The familiar golden sun rises on the horizon of the pink California sky and I feel like I am home.

It takes a few minutes to stop and for the plane to get situated but soon me and several other passengers on the plane rise from our seats, stretching our legs for the first time after the long flight. Several others have already began to file down the walkway, including the couple that sat beside me. I climb out from my seat and walk into the walkway. I lift the door to the overhead compartment and remove my bags. I slide my arm into the strap and clutch the strap of the other bag as I join the line of people slowly exiting the plane. I am excited to see him, but at the same time, I am very nervous. The line slowly hobbles through the small walkway. It has been two years and I have tried to call him everyday if I had the chance, but in this line of work it gets very hard to maintain a "long distance relationship" especially with the variable of me never returning still in the air. The line, I am in, begins to move forward. The flight attendant stands at the door to the plane wishing everyone safe travels and a happy holiday. I give her a small smile and duck my head as I exit the plane door.

Soon I am out of the confines of the plane and a few steps closer to seeing him. Hopefully he is here this time, I think to myself. I laugh and shake my head. I walk into the crowded terminal. Herds of people cover every available space of the airport floor. Some talk to their families, some are seated reading books or playing on their phones, some complain to the lady at the desk about their flights, most are boarding planes or are looking for their bags. The loud chatter and the bustling of the people make it hard to hear one's own thoughts. I continue walking into the sea of airport goers, carrying my two large bags. "Excuse me," I repeat throughout the crowd, but only a few will move. The others give me a dirty look as I nudge into them. During the holidays, traveling is a bitch. Especially at the airport. When I reach, somewhat, of a clearing I stand in the middle of the airport and look around. Over all of the noise I can hear the song "Here Comes Santa Claus" play on the airport speakers. I continue to look. There is garland and small Christmas trees, decorated as far as my eyes can see. I turn and look behind me in the direction of the exit. No Mitch. It's hard to pinpoint the brunette through the crowd unless he hasn't arrived yet. Suddenly I feel two hands push into my back. I am not exactly happy in this environment, being prodded and pushed around. I spin around to see who rudely pushed me so I can give them a piece of my mind. "Who the f- Mitch?!" I exclaim, as the brunette's beautiful face comes into view. His chin and upper lip is freshly shaved, his hair is combed over to the side, and his glasses rest on his nose. He gives me his dazzling smile that nearly kills me right there. "I'm here," He says, softly, opening his arms. I drop my bags and wrap my arm around his waist, lifting the light man off of his feet. I place my other hand on the side of his head and bring his face slowly down to meet mine. I press my lips to his smooth lips and I kiss him after my long deployment. His lips bring me back home. They break that icy vise that develops around my heart, whenever I leave, and thaw it. His presence is like the sun, melting away the cold. I pull away from him slightly and set him back on his own two feet. He looks up at me with his rich, chocolate, eyes and continues to smile. "What?" I ask, looking down at him. He shakes his head. "Fmitch is here to take you home," he jokes. I laugh. "It was a long flight." I say, lifting my bag and placing the strap over my left shoulder. "So Kevin wanted to visit with you via Skype since he is in Japan for the holidays," Mitch begins. I nod. I lift my other bag into my left hand and place my right arm over Mitch's shoulder turning him in the direction we begin to walk. Mitch wraps his left arm around my waist as we walk towards the exit. "Avi and Esther thought it would be cool if you and I came to light the menorah with their family," Mitch continues. We walk through the crowd, away from the terminal, and further from the point in which we just stood. "Kirstie and Jeremy wanted us to spend Christmas day with them and Kirstie said something about having a Christmas party-" I cut him off, "What do you want for Christmas?" I ask, figuring that since the Holiday was just around the corner. "You," Mitch says without a second of hesitation. I laugh. He looks up at me. "That's funny because I want you for Christmas too," I say, truthfully. We both begin to laugh as we reach the exit of the airport.

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A/N: It has been a long road and now the curtains finally close. Once again I want to thank you for following me on this journey and allowing me to write this Scömìche fan fiction. I might write a few one shots and other stories in the future but this is my first actual story. Thank you for reading, your votes, your patience, and your comments. You are awesome!