Hell's Smitten (Gordon Ramsay x Reader)

Chapter 97- The Napoleon Suite

Thursday, July 18th, 2013

The first thing I feel is a light stroking of my hand. My head is heavy as if it is filled with lead and my feet are propped up on something. I groan, shifting slightly.

"(Y/N)? Are you awake?" A voice cuts through the cotton in my ears, but only barely. I can't tell whose it is.

"Mrrrh," I grumble, trying to force my eyes open. The lead in my skull must have migrated to my eyelids because they feel as heavy as two-ton weights.

"How are you feeling?" A different voice tries to coax me into wakefulness. I've never had this much trouble recovering from passing out before. At least the vile taste of vomit in the back of my throat has subsided.

"Tell me my girl is gonna be alright!" OK, I know who that is, it has to be Taylor. I manage to crack my eyelid open at the same time I crack a smile at her words.

"I'll be alright," I grunt as wakefulness starts to wash over me. My mouth feels like sandpaper. When my eyelids finally fully open and I take in the scene before me.

Abel is gently holding my hand, watching me with worried eyes. Gordon is leaned back in his seat, but the relief on his face is evident. Taylor, who is sitting behind us, leans over my seat and grins at me upside down.

"You really had us worried, dork," she teases. "The flight attendant says passing out happens quite a bit, actually, but that didn't stop us from worrying. The stewardess elevated your feet to 'promote blood flow' she'd said, but I guess it didn't work too well because you still missed out on the breakfast challenge."

"The challenge already happened?" I wince as I push myself up in my chair.

"It did," Abel answers, his fingers still lightly resting on mine and a soft smile on his face. "Your croissant French toast sticks were a hit."

"Oh... do we know who won?"

"Not yet, we'll find out at the hotel. Just relax."

"(Y/N), drink some water, please?" Gordon hands me a water bottle, which I take and greedily gulp down. The scratchy feeling in my throat washes away as the revitalizing water takes hold.

"Thank you, Gordon." I smile before I realize what I've said. "I mean Chef, sorry, I'm still out of it."

"Bugger that, I'm just glad you're OK." Gordon looks like he wants to take me into his arms, but he holds back. There is nothing I'd like more than to curl up against him as my body recovers, but I know that's not possible.

"We're landing, please sit down miss." The stewardess directs her request towards Taylor, who plops down in her seat and clicks her buckle. "I'm glad you are feeling better, let me get that out of your way." The stewardess takes the elevation pillow out from in front of me and carries it to the back.

My seat belt is still on from where I'd locked it in at the start of the flight, so I try to focus on organizing my muddied thoughts. It doesn't take long before the plane jolts as its wheels hit the ground and roll us to a stop. After a few minutes, the plane is clear to exit. Both Abel and Gordon help me to my feet. Abel offers to let me lean on him, but I'm starting to feel strong enough to walk now.

Gordon leads the way down the offloading ramp just ahead of Bella, Taylor, Abel, and me.

"Those girls piss me off." Bella is glaring off into the distance. My eyes follow her gaze to the group of four women from earlier as they stumble ahead of us giggling, clearly drunk off the in-flight alcohol.

"What do ya think happened to make you pass out, (Y/N)?" Taylor asks.

"I think I was too anxious and coupled with the rapid change in elevation, I fainted." I shrug.