airplane ﹙short story﹚

fourteen

Theodore felt bad.

Not only for snapping the other night, but the moment he watched Atticus walk away, he knew he'd said something he shouldn't have. It started off as a small coil, wedged in between his chest, and now it was growing like a parasite, bouncing up and down in harsh beats.

He was gripping onto his phone, so tightly he thought the screen might smash even more than it already was. He wasn't taking in anything he was seeing. Just mindlessly scrolling through social media.

He glanced at the blond. He had his hood pulled over his head, head tilted away from him. Theo thought he might have been sleeping at first, but he quickly noticed his fingers poking out from underneath the sleeves, playing with the ends of the blanket spread across his lap.

Theodore thought he looked lonely.

He came to realise the people sitting next to Atticus seemed like strangers. Had he come by himself?

The stinging in his chest almost brought tears to his eyes. He didn't like the silence. He didn't like being here alone. He felt, once again, like the shittiest person. He hated it. He hated himself so badly he wished he could rip open the airplane door and jump outside.

Theo squeezed his eyes shut briefly, before reopening them. He reached forward with uncertain speed, plucking one of the starburst he lay scattered on his tray to try and distract himself. Turning towards the blond, Theodore could feel his breath catching in his throat, the pit of nerves in his stomach tightening.

He reached forward, tapping the blond's arm so gently, he wasn't sure he had felt it at first.

Yet when his eyes met his, Theo felt his heart stop beating right there and then. His eyelids looked a little red, and he quickly realised it was because he had been crying. He shamefully averted his gaze and held his hand out, presenting the orange sweet for him wordlessly. Atticus seemed to stare at it for a few moments, before he softly took it from his palm, and started unwrapping it carefully.

Theodore tapped his fingers together, drawing a deep breath in.

"I'm sorry."

The blond didn't answer.

"I said some pretty nasty things and I obviously made you upset. I was just grumpy because..." He paused for a long second, before his chest deflated with a heavy sigh. "...well, because I was tired. That's a token of my apology, so i-if you want to stay mad, then that's your fault, not mine."

The lump in his throat pressed against his skin, pinpricks of heat assaulting his cheeks. The blond broke the suffocating silence with a quiet chuckle, tugging on his sleeves nervously.

"You're so cute."

Theo snatched the starburst from his hand before he could pop it into his mouth. "Give me this back then."

"No, no, I'm only joking–"

"You clearly don't appreciate my efforts–"

"Angel–"

"All that for nothing."

Atticus gave a shrill snort in the middle of his laughter, and slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from producing anymore. Theodore stared at him with a surprised smile, before he couldn't help but chuckle too.

"Theo."

Atticus' eyes met his, and his stomach did flips.

"My name's Theo, by the way."