No Control

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I woke up fifteen after five and called Berkley. I asked him for the week off to think about us, a small lie that worked wonders. I have no idea what will happen with Harry so instead of only using the few days I have left I asked for more. Berkley was happy to give me the time off which made me feel a little bad but desperate times and all that.

The ball of anticipation building in my stomach gets bigger and bigger with each passing minute. The stern faced balding man sitting in the cocoon seat next to me seems to be totally put off by my seat squirming but I've long since pushed him and his negative opinions of me from my mind. We're both seated in first class on the exact same flight so he and his judging stares can fůck off. Granted I didn't pay for my flight but I damned well could've so my statement still stands.

Rolling my eyes I disengage from the staring contest we've been locked in for the past few minutes and turn up Machine Gun Kelly's voice in my ears. Something about his tone of voice always either calms me or gets me hype depending on the song and I need his special abilities now more than ever. My hands are shaking and my knuckles ache from how much I've been popping them but I have to get my anxiety out some way and if I walk to the bathroom again I think the air marshal might cuff me for acting suspicious.

My hoodie, sweats, and Uggs, although warm, don't stop the freezing feeling that's slowly covering my body. Breathing deeply I close my eyes and rest my head against my seat, it's been a long time since I was this nervous for anything. On one hand I'm excited for the possibilities that this grand gesture brings but on the other I'm nervous about what those possibilities are and if I'm truly ready for them. Fear of the unknown has always been a downfall of mine and matters of the heart are no exception, in fact they're the reason for the season so to speak.

One thing's for certain I want Harry to take me seriously. I can attest that each of my failed relationships in one way or another have been doomed from the start because whomever I was with didn't take me seriously. It's the most rigorous application process on the planet that I have yet to fully pass. If I did everything they asked of me I failed for being a pushover. If I pushed back and gave them shįt I failed for being too difficult. Even when I tried to be neutral and act like nothing moved me I failed for not being exciting enough. I was never enough because from the very beginning, friend, lover, or family, they didn't respect me. Mutual respect, if that's the only thing Harry and I can accomplish on this trip I'll be satisfied.

The seatbelt sign flashes above signaling it's almost time to land and a chill runs down my spine. For every time I remind myself not to have any expectations a new one runs through my mind. I just don't want to be disappointed, I hate that feeling. It's such a long way down once you've fallen from how high you built something up.

After we come to a shaky but safe landing we file out of the plane and filter through the routine that comes along with flying. I'm surprised it's so busy at three in the morning but since it's New Year's Eve I can only assume people are traveling for the holiday. You can always tell which people fly all of the time and which ones are newbies by the way they move through the chaos of the airport. You're either a graceful swan, dodging luggage and runaway toddlers or you're a flat footed platypus, hitting everything in sight, just barely managing not to trip over your own two feet.

As I grab my luggage from the turnstile successfully, I turn to leave with a grin a mile wide. I've only ever flown to and from California so this twelve hour trip to Paris blows that clean out of the water and clearly makes me a professional. I'm a platypus no more. Contemplating how I'll find a taxi at such a late hour as I head to the door, a familiar looking man holding a tablet with my first and last name on it catches my attention. He notices me at the same time and we walk towards each other meeting somewhere in the middle.

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