Fly Away

33 - hysterics and kisses

Song: Julia Michaels - Heaven (slowed down)

Mia 

The jet is amazing.

I stand at the entrance, taking in the luxury of mahogany and cream. There are five rows of widely spaced leather seats that sit comfortably on either side of the plane, a mini bar standing solitary between the middle rows and a curtain leading off to what I'm presuming is a bathroom.

"Woah." I step further into the plane and run my fingers along the dark wood of the mini bar. I've never flown before and I'm hoping I don't spill my guts out from it. 

It takes a maximum of three hours to get from London to Italy, so it shouldn't be that bad of a ride. 

"Miss, would you like to take a seat?" A man in a spic butlers uniform stands in front of me with a nervous smile on his face. 

He doesn't seem that much older than me, with dirty blonde hair pulled back neatly over his head and soft green eyes staring at me.

I smile at him and nod, suddenly embarrassed that there has to be a good looking butler seeing me in my airport clothes which consist of a pair of black sweatpants and my favourite baby pink crop top. 

Maybe not the best first impression. 

He leads me to a pair of seats facing each other near the back of the plane. This area seems more secluded, the seats closer together than the other ones near the middle of the plane. 

"What's your name?" I decide to involve in some friendly conversation, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, he looks away from me towards something behind me, his eyes widening in fear.

What the?

"Are you alright? Don't worry, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." I try to reassure him but he only scrambles to put my suitcase in the slot above the seats before disappearing through the curtain down the hall.

Well that was odd. 

I slide into one of the seats, peeking out of the small rectangle window. There's nothing much to see except for the runway which is pitch black at the moment except for a few choice lamps illuminating the path. 

Just then, a large figure who now, I'm quite used to seeing, takes a seat opposite me, his face very much full of expression-note the sarcasm-and his hands running through his hair a few times before he looks over at me.

"This is so cool, I can't believe we have this whole thing to ourselves. Oh wait, where is Ren?" If I'm going to spend three hours on this plane, I don't want to be sitting here bored out of my head with a certain ill tempered man not saying a word. 

He blinks at me, his eyebrows furrowing in the slightest.

"Near the cockpit." I turn to look and see if I can spot him, but only manage to make out the top of his head. 

I fall back against my seat again and observe the man in front of me. 

His suit jacket is gone, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his mid forearm, exposing slivers of his tattoos. 

His hair is its same neat mess and his eyes look tired like he hasn't slept in days. 

His head is leaning back agains the seat but his gaze is on me, looking at me in the same way he does before he's about to kiss me. 

Well, judging by the fact that that's only happened what, two times? I'm not really attuned to his horny eyes.

I'm pretty sure he sees mine though.