outbound | haaland

01.

Erling slowly made his way to the front of the queue, contemplating if contentment could be characterized as happiness. Maybe, if he tilted his head and squinted his eyes, he could argue that he was content.

He slid his passport to the woman behind the counter, speaking in a low voice, "10:05 to Amsterdam."

As she checked his passport and began typing away on her keyboard, Erling pulled his beanie off and held it in his hand. He pulled the corners of his lips up into a polite smile as her typing slowed. She looked at the computer screen, the passport, Erling's face, back to the computer screen, and to Erling's face again. A soft gasp of recognition escaped from her mouth.

She cleared her throat, blush flooding her cheeks.  It almost matched the pink lip tint darkening the center of her lips.  "Will you be checking a bag, Sir?"

"No."

The printer behind the counter whirred to life.  The woman tucked the boarding pass into his passport before handing both to him.  "You're very handsome in person."

"Thank you," Erling smiled wider. He hadn't heard that many times. It was a combination of being polite and a small way to acknowledge that they recognized Erling. Sometimes people didn't have anything else to say; that suited Erling just fine.

"Have a good flight and happy holidays."

"Thank you. Happy holidays to you as well."

Erling turned away from the counter and quickly placed the sunglasses he was wearing back on his face. He started to make his way toward security; he dreaded going through the line. Generally, the security check-point was when Erling gunked up the works. When he got recognized by many people at that airport choke-point, he became a nuisance and could only grimace apologetically to the people working the security line.

Erling didn't make it to security. With his eyes so focused on the uncomfortably long security lines, he failed to notice the person standing still in the middle of his path and walked straight into her.  That, and also that the foot that separated them in height made it hard for Erling to notice her. They both toppled over. 

The body next to him groaned as Erling shifted onto his knees, a heart-felt apology already leaping from his throat.  "Oh my god, I'm so sorry.  Are you okay?"

Erling looked down at the person. A plain black shirt was layered with a beige button-up blazer under a puffy black jacket. The woman released a dejected sigh. Although she pushed herself into a sitting position, her posture was positively defeated. She frowned, picking up a small, misshapen white box that she must have dropped.

"I'm sorry," the woman said, lifting her face to reveal a face fraught with worry. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going-"

Erling placed a hand on her shoulder, "I ran into you. It's my fault." He glanced at the box, "What was in there?"

"A cupcake."

Erling frowned. Poor girl. She looked like a kicked puppy, and Erling had probably just ruined her afternoon by trampling over her small treat. Erling hopped up to his feet and extended a hand, "Come on, I'll buy you a new one."

"No, no, no," the woman shook her head.  "It's really okay.  It's not that important."

Erling sighed, reaching down to pull at the woman's free hand. Luckily, the stranger met him halfway and grasped Erling's hand to launch herself up to her own two feet. Now, he was even more embarrassed to have mowed over a fellow traveler. For someone who thought he was always on high alert in public, he was just plain unobservant in this case.

Erling repeated himself, "Are you okay?"

The woman gently retracted her hand from Erling's and shrugged, "That's a complicated question."

"Let me replace your cupcake, and you can tell me all about it."