Conversations Above the Clouds

3 • 12:56 p.m.

[12:56 p.m.]

Lucas's boarding pass read that he was designated at row number 18B. That meant he was situated in the middle seat, squished between two other passengers.

Once he finally reached his seat, he saw an old lady already seated in 18C. She was busy drowning the chatters inside the aircraft with her sleek headphones.

After stowing away his carry-on item inside the overhead bin, Lucas noticed that 18A was unoccupied. It was the window seat, and window seats were his favorite spot whenever he travelled.

He craned his neck to keep a lookout for the cabin door to see if anyone was still boarding the plane. Ten minutes have already passed and, realizing that no one was stepping foot inside anymore and the passengers were all settled in their respective seats, he took the chance and quietly slid himself into 18A, trying not to disturb the old lady, who seemed like she was already in her own world. She was even tapping her fingers on her lap in harmony.

After clicking his seat belt shut, Lucas pulled out the hood of his denim jacket over his head and leaned back, closing his eyes.

A few minutes into his supposedly short slumber, he thought he heard someone clear a throat. Lucas frowned at the sound and pulled his hood more. He heard the throat clearing one more time, this time a little bit louder for him to hear.

Lucas lazily opened his left eye to take a peek at the inconsiderate person that was making the noise. Along the aisle, he spotted a female figure with one arm on her hip and her other arm nonchalantly laying on the headrest of the old lady's. She was staring intently at him, her face all stern.

The female shook her head confusingly. "Uh, excuse me, stranger. That's my seat."

"Hm?" Lucas replied shortly, appearing all innocent. He locked eyes with the female figure. Her hair was coiled in a huge, messy bun, and she was wearing a black turtleneck sweater that was so fitted it emphasized her hourglass figure.

Oh, hello there, Lucas thought.

Wait a minute. His eyes trailed down to her waist, spotting a familiar red jacket tied around it. He suddenly recognized the person standing on the aisle.

She was the perpetrator of the recent Spilled Skittles incident, and she had yet to give it justice. The candies were meant to be consumed by a hungry human being, not the hard, dirty, concrete floor.

"Uh, hello?" she asked, waving a hand at him. "I'm 18A. I'm assuming you're 18B."

"I thought you'd never come."

She spread her arms wide, plastering a sarcastic grin on her face. "Well, I'm here! Please, do move."

Her loud voice caught the attention of the nearby passengers (surprisingly, not the old lady) eventually summoning a flight attendant who promptly arrived next to her. The flight attendant—appearing with a tight-lipped smile—informed her that the aircraft will be taking off in a few minutes.

She was actually the last passenger to board inside the plane.

Lucas then took the initiative to stand up from his seat to avoid any future confrontation. Lucas had to accept the fact that he will be seated between a daydreaming senior who might begin a snore fest anytime soon and an eye candy with a seemingly uncompromising attitude.

Lucas sure was not getting the best of both worlds.

Carefully getting outside the row, he stood beside the female and extended his hand, gesturing her to go inside. The smug look on her face made Lucas feel defeated. Now wasn't she so extremely satisfied with herself?