It's Not What It Looks Like

ᴇᴘɪʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬.

Early summer days here aren't quite as hot as they are back home, but they're hot enough for the jackets to be folded at the very bottom of Mena's suitcase. The very large suitcase, which both she and Lucy had to sit on for Silena to close it, and even then not without a lot of effort. It still looks dangerously close to bursting at any moment.

If any space had been left, though, it's no secret that Lucy would have found a way to sneak herself into the suitcase. The little girl's persistent ploys of following Mena onto the plane are also why she and Keeks are currently waiting in the car while Mena says the last of her goodbyes.

There's still a good twenty minutes left before the plane's departure, but hugging Miles already has her hanging about at least half a meter away from the ground.

She pats his shoulder. Partially because he's a great friend and she'll miss him tons, and partially because she feels awful about the fact that he just always lives at such high altitudes. His ears must be plugged the whole time, the poor dude.

"Did you read the stuff that I sent you?"

Mena did not, in fact, read all the 10 articles about plane safety that arrived into their group chat that morning at six-thirty. Still, she nods.

"Yes. Very... entertaining."

He looks a little relieved, but not by much.

"Alright. Remember to check where the exits are when you come in. And make sure to-"

"Quit your fretting already," Lyrica says, before producing something out of one of the comically large pockets of her self-sown dress. "Here. Purple Skittles, as promised."

That shouldn't make Mena feel like crying, but it does. She hugs them to her chest.

"Thank you guys," She says. "Weren't these supposed to be for my funeral, though? Is this a moment of clairvoyance, or something?"

Miles' eyes widen in new worry, and Lyrica's with a warning.

Mena quickly lifts her hands up.

"Bad joke. I'll be fine, I promise."

"You're not the one flying the plane."

"Fine," Mena says, with a roll of her eyes. "I'll make sure to tell the pilot that Miles Ayuba forbids that I crash, then."

He does chuckle at this, running his hand through her hair. She ducks too late to avoid the attack, and glares at him all through fixing her ponytail. Still, despite all the turbulences (heh), she makes it clear that she'll miss him terribly.

Jonah is the next in the hug line, undoubtedly looking the most awkward about it.

You can tell that he isn't very used to feeling awkward, too. He still stands a bit away from everyone but Emilia and Silena, one of his hands pointlessly lingering behind his neck, and the other outstretched for Mena to take into a handshake. That, or some kind of a football-bro-hug that Mena is not yet acquainted with.

She looks at the hand funnily, and then uses it as leverage to pull him into a hug.

"You look very awkward," she informs him.

"Yeah, well. Wouldn't want to make anyone else fall for me at the airport."

She pinches his arm.