“Is this seat taken?” the skunk-haired beanpole before Mallory says jokingly.
“Yeah, you bought it,” she replies, flatly.
Quite frankly, the last thing she wants to do is socialize, with him. From the timbre of his voice and awkward way about him, she already knows his type. He’s an overconfident guy, knows he’s got it all figured out, and thinks all the girls should be falling all over his feet because he isn’t the stereotypical image of the cocky guy. Granted, he’s okay looking – alright maybe more than okay looking but, that’s hardly the point. His mess of brown and blonde hair is messy but held perfectly in place, even as he rocks back and forth on his feet in front of her, blathering on about, probably, a whole lot of nothing.
“Uhh… sorry, was that too much?”
“I have no idea what you said,” she replies honestly, her eyes scanning the pages of the book before her.
“I want on a long mini-rant about how usually my experiences with airlines have been horrible and conditions are always just barely sufferable. But then today, I get the luxury of being seated next to a beautiful girl, so I think they realized they have to make up for all my mistreatment.”
“Wow,” she says, almost under her breath, and he grins, thinking he’s got her.
“I’m certainly glad I brought my headphones.”
Or not. Mystery girl, one. Barakat, zip.
He watches her curiously while she’s set out on ignoring him. The sunlight is streaming through the small windows nearby, catching tiny sections of her hair, making her strawberry blonde locks look almost orange. Her petite frame shifts uncomfortably when she realizes his eyes are on her, studying her. She can’t stand him, but all the same she wants to know what he thinks of her; is he lusting after her? Trying to figure her out? Her hands grip the arm rests tightly as take-off begins, and she makes sure her sleeves are tugged down over her best-kept secrets.
***
He’s so concerned with getting home on time, for once, that he doesn’t even noticed she’s sat down next to him.
“Oh God,” she groans, “Not you, again. What are the fuckin’ odds?”
His head snaps up so fast he surprised his neck doesn’t break, “Mystery girl?!”
“Wow, you’ve given me a cute little stalker title for your internal dialogue; I must be the one,” she replies with an eye roll.
“Well, I don’t have a ring yet, so hold your horses,” he jokes. He swears she almost cracks a smile, and decides that’s more progress than he made last time.
Mystery girl, one. Barakat, one.
His eyes scan over her subtly, out of the corner of his eyes. It’s summer now; when he first saw her, it was the beginning of spring, so she’s lost the hoodie she’d been wearing on the flight. Instead, she dons a band t-shirt. When she reaches a hand up to rake through her hair and he catches sight of her wrist.
“You cut yourself?” he asks in a low murmur.
She lets out a quiet gasp and turns to him, feigned hatred in her stare while the tears that burn in her eyes and blur her vision are filled with pain, “That is none of your fucking business!”
“I just want you to know that you’re better than that,” he replies meekly, taken aback by her response, “I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk to you. I’m sorry, please, don’t cry. I’ll change the subject.”
YOU ARE READING
One Shots. ~ Requests Closed
Novela JuvenilThe first page is just the form for requests, then the following is the list of requests and the order they'll be done in. Then, the rest is self-explanatory.
