Quarantine In Prague

Chapter 5: Adrien and the Empty First Class

"Sorry, sorry- sorry" said Marinette as she tripped over in plane and nearly fell on some old lady if it wasn't for Adrien. Marinette chuckled, her face redder than one third of the French flag and she inched her way to their seats.

She stopped at the row 8. Adrien's seat, A, was across the lane from her own, B. Those were, by far, the worst seats in the whole plane. She frowned; they were also both occupied.

"Uhm." She massaged the back of her head nervously. Oh how I hate confrontations. "I am sorry, but these seats are... uhh... taken already." she peeped in a high pitched voice.

The two people occupying the seats didn't even notice her.

"Marinette?" questioned Adrien. "There are people waiting behind us." 

She turned at him. "Our seats are right here." she pointed at the two people lightly so they didn't notice.

Adrien shook his head. "Those aren't ours."

"Yes, they are, A for you, B for me, 8th row." She showed him their tickets as undeniable proof.

"Marinette," he nudged her with his finger to continue. "Those seats are in the first class."

She paled and pressed the tickets to her chest. First class? She turned around, overwhelmed, and slugged her way onward. Not only had she never flown in an airplane but she was also supposed to fly on First class? Her family did not have the means to fly and surely not in first class! That made her crazy uncomfortable. The imposter syndrome was strong with this one.

When she reached the dividing door between the first class and second, she couldn't even keep the eye contact with the stewardess, staying awkwardly silent, pressing the tickets still to her chest. Then a shock ran through her body as Adrien touched her, moving her gently out of the way. She barely registered what he said to the stewardess, but she smiled and they were in. Marinette shook, getting back to her senses.

"Voila. Seat A and B are right here, but if you prefer any other seat..." Adrien smirked as he span around the completely empty First Class. 

She was speechless. The vanilla scent, the tanned and soft  seats and- wait, is that a personal plasma? Her jaw dropped, same as her legs. She fell down- or more precisely, into one of those ultra comfy seats...

Adrien nodded. "The seats M & N, huh." He shrugged and sat next to her. As they put on their seat belts and got accustomed to all the little details of the First Class, the pilot began his speech.

He talked briefly about the fact that it was the last flight between Prague and Paris for a long time to come. Then the message got repeated in Chinese and English.

Soon after that the plane shook slightly and started rolling. Marinette looked out of the window, looking over the airport lit by the very first sun beams of the morning. She squeezed her hands into little fists. I need to warn him ahead...

"A-Adrien?" she said. He stopped meddling around with the TV settings and looked at her joyfully.

"Yeah?"

"I just... I just wanted to say that I haven't ever flown in a plane before and I am afraid that I will make a scene-"

"You haven't ever flown in a plane?" Adrien frowned. 

Marinette looked down on her feet, ashamed. "No."

But Adrien's voice bore no judgement - instead, he sounded rejoiced. "Really? Me neither!" he settled into his seat, a bit more comfortable than before.

"Listen, if I scream, just..."

"Is that a challenge, Marinette? I am sure that I am the one who is going to scream here, not you."