"You're the worst kind of obsession, Jolene. My obsession. One I can't seem to find a cure for and if I'm being honest, I'm not sure I ever want to find one."
***
My initial plan is to get far away from here. I emphasize on the word 'initial', becau...
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I've been sitting here for far too long now. I should already be on a plane, halfway across the world by now.
But here I am, stuck in that fucking airport because of a snowstorm and this gorgeous creature is sitting right on that chair across from mine. I ain't gonna lie, it's sweetening the pill.
Have you ever experienced that tension between you and someone else your age in the airport? You keep having these intense eye contacts with them and you have only one thought running through your mind and it's 'are we going to fuck or not'?
Is that because there is a small chance our plane crashes and we're like, fuck it, I'm gonna shoot my shot?
Maybe.
Seeming resigned, the girl I've just fantasized my whole future with closes her book and looks up at me.
As soon as our eyes meet again, I quickly avert my gaze and pretend that my loose sheet of paper on my lap has my whole attention but that's a damn lie. She is the one having my whole fucking attention. I lightly stroke my pencil across the page, meticulously outlining my sketch. It might become my best one yet.
"What are you drawing?" she asks, looking intrigued. I slowly look up, glancing left and right, trying to figure out if she's really talking to me.
And fuck me, she is, actually.
"Nothing," I say when my eyes find hers again, putting the sheet of paper away as I tap the tip of my pencil on my lips. I don't want her to see what I was drawing. She wouldn't understand. "You, what are you reading?"
"Nothing," she echoes mischievously. If I really wanted to know, I just had to read the title on the cover. And I did. The moment I spotted her three hours ago. Jane Eyre. But I need to act casual. I don't want to scare her yet.
"You hungry?" I ask.
"Ugh, starving," she widens her eyes a little as if to emphasize her craving. She doesn't look surprised by my unexpected question. I like it. I like her.
"I know a vending machine that sells the best sandwiches in the whole airport."
Here is an even more unexpected thing to say. But this girl makes me lose my mind and common sense, if there is any left of it.
"Wow, hold on. Are you asking me on a date, stranger?" she dramatically says, but I only shrug while a smirk tugs at a corner of my lips. Like I said, casual is my third name, right after maniac.
"What can I do about it? I'm a romantic."
"That's something kind of unusual for your species."
I look at her closely. She's testing me. But I know better. She'll understand that soon.
"Disappointed?"
"More like... Entertained."
Entertained is a good way to start. But I promise you baby, I'll make you obsessed.
