Serenity to Souls

Impossible

Why? Why would I do such a thing? 

Luke was like an irritating pest. I would never take him otherwise.

Get yourself together, Danielle. This is not you. Surely you must be possessed at this point if you even think of him.

He's such a menace to-

...

"Danielle! Earth to Danielle!" snapped Sophie. Jerking my mind to an abrupt halt, I shot a startled gaze at the brunette beside me. Her intense stare piqued my awkwardness.

"What?" I replied shortly. I was always this blank when my thoughts were interrupted. Sophie's brows quirked up.

"Dinner is here." 

I trailed my eyes to the figure waiting behind Sophie. It was the air hostess. With a spilling smile, she spoke.

"Here's the chicken rice you ordered, miss."

Dazed for a split second, I regarded the hostess with a look of confusion before I received my meal. "Thank you."

Though I returned no grin, she kept hers. Feeling the lump of guilt build up in my throat, I swallowed hard. The hostess proceeded to serve the other passengers.

Why is it so hard to smile?

Despite all the spiraling waves of mental questions, I mustered up the strength to act normally, unpacking my sealed food.

In the midst of my dining, I felt Sophie's eyes glancing at me accusingly.

I slowly turned my head, setting my eyes to meet hers.

"You've been spacing out quite a lot recently..." Sophie trailed off, still fixating her riveting glance at me. "What's on your mind?"

"It's nothing rea-"

"You know you can tell me, right? I'm always here for you."

I mentally scoffed. After all, the same couldn't be said when she left me all alone after high-school.

"Well..." I started, trying to come up with a believable ruse. "I was just thinking about our past memories."

That really was the best thing I could come up with to cover my back.

A brief silence stretched between us.

I tensed.

Did she buy it?

To my surprise, her eyes softened. "Oh...really?" she responded. I nodded in fake sincerity. She grinned at me before turning to attacking her meal.

Sighing, I turned to finish my own food.

To my intense disappointment, the sauces provided for the chicken rice tasted blandly mediocre. Additionally, the chicken was pitifully dry, and the rice was evidently not cooked enough.

But then again...what else would I expect from airplane food?

How I craved and cried for Luke's cooking.

...

Not him.

His cooking.

It was seemingly the only aspect which I liked about him. Just daydreaming of his cooking involuntarily aroused my tastes, and I only felt even more disappointed about the plane's food. At that point in time, there was one thing I was sure of.

If I would ever refrain from abandoning Luke, it would be because of his dishes.

...

After what felt like an eternity, I completed my food. My stomach silently berated me in dissatisfaction. I externally frowned.