Second fanfic for me. First All human.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY
Oh, how I loathe airports. Who doesn't these days? Combine irritable people with even more irritable staff, throw in some whiny children, confused elderly, with a cup and a half of security and you've got… a bad combination. I sighed exasperated at the baby draped on the shoulder of its assumed dad. The stare was borderline creepy, pale blue eyes with the most vacant expression. I took a cautious step back, afraid that it was indigestion and I so did not want to be in its line of fire.
I had woken up at a time that I forgot existed, showered, dressed, and left my elegant and comfortable hotel for this hellhole of an airport. Well, JFK was not that bad, but in my current state of mind, it was very unappealing. It should be more appealing, though. I am heading back to Seattle for a small break from my even smaller book tour.
Book tour. Cringe. What an experience that had been so far. I thought the whole thing was ridiculous in the first place but my editor insisted upon it. I remember he had been very animated when he said, "Just think of the publicity! Ah. You're book will gain so much recognition! You'll enjoy it I assure you!"
I internally scoffed at his predictions. My book really isn't that popular, and this book tour was just a reminder of that.
Growing bored, I laid my head down on my arm, staring at nothing. Someone swatted my head, hard.
"Ow! Cut it out Rob!" I cried annoyed.
He looked at me disapprovingly. "Grow up, Bella. You aren't going to attract many fans in your current state. You do want this book to do good don't you?"
I nearly growled. "Of course I do you buffoon! But what good is a book tour when you barely have any fans to attend!" I admit I exaggerated. I did have a reasonable sized fan base. It's just hard for me to believe that people read my book let alone liked it.
"This brings awareness to your book. Let me do my job and I expect you to do yours!" He snapped back.
Just then, a few girls hesitantly approached us.
"Are you, Bella Swan?" the apparent brave one of the group questioned.
What set you off, the name plate? I thought sarcastically.
I put on my best assuring smile and said. "Yes, would you like me to sign your book?" I asked gesturing to my book held tightly in her hands.
She and the other girls nodded, relieved.
The rest of that day pasted surprisingly well. I met with quite a few people, a lot of them really animated about my book. I remember Rob looked on with a smug smile on his face. That kind of ruined it for me. But I didn't let my "fans" know.
Finally, it was my turn to get my ticket and head to the wonderland known as security. I put in the necessary information checked out my seat; content enough I hit confirm and viola out came my tickets. I was headed from New York, to Denver, to Seattle. I had a sudden premonition that it was going to be a long day. Nah, it was just common sense.
With a huff of air I wheeled my suitcase around to drop it off. A man in uniform and plastic gloves was handling the luggage.
"Got any film, weapons, batteries? Anything of that sort?" he questioned routinely while gesturing to the sign of "no no's."
I shook my head no and headed toward security. I'm smart you see, wearing flats, no sweatshirt, earrings, or metal clips, and I didn't even wear a wire braw. You can call it paranoia, but I've learned from experience. Those memories I block out constantly. Besides, everything that could go wrong usually does at an airport. I'm just saving myself from one more worry.
I approached a crowd of people and it suddenly dawned on me. This was the end of the line. Shit. I knew I should have come earlier. I looked at my phone. I'd make the flight but barely.
I wanted to call Alice, let her know how bored I was but the three hour time difference stopped me. The line was moving at a mockingly slow pace. I took the time to people watch. That was always fun, though it would be more fun if I had Alice here. I was glad I was finally heading home. Two weeks doesn't seem like much but for Alice and I who were practically sisters, it was long enough.
There was a family, about 4 feet ahead of me, that I chose to examine first. They were all pale with borderline white hair and the palest blue eyes I had ever seen, even paler than the peculiar baby. It was actually kind of creepy. I'd never seen so many albinos at once. The mom was currently scolding one of the kids, pointing her bony finger in his direction. The dad was trying to calm the little girl, mumbling some nonsense about Burger King. Huh. I wasn't amused. It was more fun when you had friends with you.
But I continued. I mean, in New York City, people don't get much more eclectic than that.
I saw about 5 people standing together, laughing, and smiling, having a good time. They seemed to be in their mid-twenties. No wonder they were so happy. What caught my attention though was their apparel. The guys had on fedoras, with black pants that were barely visible in the mess of baggy white t-shirts and plaid boxers. The lone girl had on the same apparel, minus the hat. She was chugging a water quickly, probably trying to finish it before security. I wish I could read what their shirts said because it probably held the key to the entire shenanigan. Then maybe I'd be able to figure out exactly why they were dressed so. But then again nobody needed a professional reason to dress a certain way, maybe it was just their style.
My gaze shifted through the crowd, growing bored I was about to give up when I saw him. I don't know why I decided to do a double take but I did. It was just something about him that told me to look. He had probably the craziest heap of auburnish-bronzish hair I had ever seen in my life, sticking up in every which way. His eyes were drawn almost to a close, like he was trying to sleep standing up. His body swayed slightly. He was almost successful. I pitied him for a moment because I had been in a similar predicament before. Being so sleepy it was almost painful.
From this distance I was able to make out very dark circles under his eyes, upsetting his pale complexion. Good God it looked like he hadn't seen the sun in years. He had some five o'clock shadow on his face. He was the picture of a disaster. I scolded myself for being curious as to what he would look like close up. But even in this exhausted stage, he was - no doubt about it – the most beautiful man I had ever seen, his hard jaw line, the smooth plane of his forehead, his straight nose, his full lips. Everything was flawless. I tilted my head a bit in wonder of his beauty. I knew I was staring but I'd doubt he'd ever notice. And even if he did it wasn't like I'd ever see him again. JFK was a big world. Ha.
I continued my examining. Normally I'd think myself to be rude but I'm a little delirious now from the lack of sleep and coffee that I could care less.
He had on a black leather jacket, some random graphic tee hidden underneath it, and dark wash blue jeans. Obviously he dressed this way to detract attention, and if it was in fact drawn to him it had a 'stay away' vibe. Oh so he was a bad boy who didn't give about the world? How upsetting and tragic. No problem, I'd stay away from him just fine.
I didn't look back at him for the remainder of the line. Ok, I admit it was tempting, especially when I detected movement in his direction from the corner of my eye. But I fought the urge to peak and studiously ignored him. It got easier once he was out of sight, too bad for me he wasn't out of mind.
I don't know why but the more I fought the constant need to see him in my brain, the more I was drawn to him. I didn't know his name, his eye color, why he was so tired. I didn't know anything about him yet I wanted to know more than was healthy for me. I'd forget about him though. Once I'd get past security and rush to my flight, he would just fade into a distant memory of a random guy that I saw at an airport. I wanted so much for that to be untrue…
Okay I'm finally at the turning point in my trip. This could either go really good or really bad, no in between. Hello my old friend, security.
Though nobody would really get my joke, I cracked my neck and knuckles anyway. I squared my shoulders, and stared straight ahead.
"It's go time." I mouthed, barely audible.
I thought I'd heard a laugh from somewhere in the distance, up ahead. The chatter was really too loud though for me to correctly distinguish.
Quickly, and efficiently I slipped off my flats, threw my phone and carry on into a single bin, and waited behind an older man struggling with his shoelaces. He had a sheepish look on his face. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
I almost applauded when he finally got his bearings and was set to go. He walked quickly through the metal detector and went straight ahead to gather his belongings.
"Aight' miss, go ahead." A young man said.
For some reason I hold my breath every time I walk through these things. I sighed when I got out, safely. He checked my ticket and I headed towards the old man. This was quite the scene.
He had half of his jacket on, his left arm in the right sleeve, shoes barely on and untied, and his messenger back sloppily hanging from his side, tickets between his teeth.
I stifled a small giggle. Where was this man's wife? He was obviously lost without her. He must have heard me because he looked up, grumbled, and walked away.
I swiftly yet still ungracefully got my things out in record time and even passed the old guy who was farther through the airport than I.
I checked my ticket for the gate and sped up a little bit. I don't think they'd start boarding for another 15 minutes but its better safe than sorry. Besides, this airport is freaking huge.
When I arrived they still weren't boarding, but all the seats were filled. Surprise! Surprise! Oh well, I'd have plenty of time to sit on the plane. There was a Starbucks nearby so I figured I'd do the passengers some good by being slightly less irritable. Of course only good things could come from coffee, no matter who you were (With the exception of Alice, she had her limits.).
Once I got my coffee I gratefully sipped it, savoring its taste. I was a little ambitious today, putting in 4 count 'em 4 packets of sugar. It was a little too sweet for my liking but hopefully it would give me a bit of energy for sitting on my butt for the remainder of the day. Irony, don't you love it?
I picked absent-mindedly at the hem of my shirt. It had been washed one too many times and at some point it snagged on something causing a string to come loose. God, I hate it when that happens. I quickly finished my coffee while walking back towards my gate. I glanced at my phone. Shit. I said aloud. I was running a tad late. I saw that I had a new text, probably from Rob, so I opened it curious as to what he'd have to say this early in the morning. Silly old me forgot for a moment to look where I was going. I ran head into something hard, but human, and coffee, not mine, spilled everywhere.
"Shit! I'm so sorry!" I said hurriedly.
The bronze haired man hissed at the burn I'd probably caused him, either that or he was upset about his leather jacket. Leather jacket. Crud!! Leave it to me to fawn over this man all morning, hoping to never see him again (while silently praying that I did see him), and then make him spill his coffee all over the two of us. What a lovely first impression.
I knelt down on the ground and began picking up my belongings which were now scattered all over the floor. People had kicked them around unceremoniously. I'd noticed a few things that weren't mine but the bronze haired stranger's. I felt his eyes on me and then he knelt down and picked up his stuff quickly.
"I'm so so so so sorry. I wasn't paying attention." I tried to make amends to no avail.
"Forget about it." He snapped.
His tone was menacing, but yet it still held a smooth quality. I slapped myself internally for reciting my obvious attraction for him in my head.
"Is there someway I can make it up to you? I'll buy you a new coffee. Or give you money for a new one. Honestly, anything!" I plead. I always got pretty desperate with victims of my thoughtlessness and clumsiness. I just felt so bad!
He looked up at me, his expression downright terrifying, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. Oddly enough when we made eye contact his expression softened infinitesimally.
"No time. My flight leaves now." He shook his head while getting up and heading towards the gate.
I felt a strange urge to scream "Wait!" and then go into seduction mode and say "What's your number, babe?" Though I'd never say that aloud, and I'd never do that while sober, it doesn't change the fact that I had wanted to.
Nonetheless we were heading in the same direction, so I followed him. Then I neared my gate. He was nearing the same one. Suddenly it hit me. We were on the same flight. I didn't know whether to be happy, hopeful, or nonchalant about the whole thing. I settled on bewilderment. He somehow raced ahead of me, at a faster more graceful pace, so he didn't notice I was behind him the whole time.
He handed his ticket to the eyelash batting flight attendant and walked off into the hall. I was behind three other people, and about 15 more were behind me. I wasn't making great time but I was starting to wonder if maybe this was all worth it, going to the airport, getting stuck in security, especially that because I got to see him. And even though I had made a complete ass of myself by running into him, I can't help but feel grateful for that event. I got to see him up close. I got to hear his voice. I'd probably never hear it again but I'd do everything in my power to see him one last time. I'm usually never this obsessive, it is so odd of me, but I can't help what I feel. Strange as it may be, I'm going to do everything in my power to catch a look at him when I go to my seat.
"Enjoy your flight." The flight attendant said sweetly, too sweetly, especially at this hour.
I hurried down the hall, tripped twice, but caught my self on the railing. Stupid uneven ground. It was a bit chilly in the hall, but once I got the entrance of the plane it became uncomfortably stuffy. The way only hundreds of humans packed in a can could be. I took one dramatic breath of outside air and then flung myself into the mass of bodies.
There was a low hum of voices, about a billion odd smells, especially to my abnormally sensitive nose, but none of it mattered. I was on a goal, looking for one face, one set of eyes. I internally slapped myself in the forehead for not being observant enough to catch his eye color before. I was too caught up in apologies and self hate to pay attention to something so miniscule now, but of course all too important at the time. Stupid!
Looking. Looking. Looking. Nothing. The freaking plane was too huge to make out every face in the small amount of time I had in each isle. While people usually hated getting stuck behind people who took advantage of the small space to stow their luggage, I was of course grateful. It gave me more time to scour the seats for him. God I wish I had a name to the face. I know it wouldn't do me any good but at least when I told someone that I found the most beautiful guy at the airport, they'd automatically assume that we had good conversation if I used a name. I might stretch the truth a tad, and not let them know the real story. I'd leave it at "Oh yeah he was charming and really kind. I doubt I'll ever see him again but whatever." Yeah. I could live with that. Silly as it was.
About 30 seats back I found him! I was about 6 feet away, scanning the rows like a hawk when our eyes connected, and a surge of electricity bolted through the thick air, slowly…
It was peculiar because I found him staring at me before I found him. His eyes were already on me by the time I looked into them. In the few seconds we stared I found that he had the most beautiful jade green eyes that seemed to darken as time went on. As I kept on walking he held my gaze with such force that I found it nearly impossible to look away. At first, I thought he was annoyed and just plain agitated that I was on the same flight as him. I wouldn't blame him if he really thought that. But then his face twisted in bewilderment, and he looked away, out the window from his middle seat. He had the whole row to himself and I assumed he looked away as not to suggest an invite to sit with him. It probably wasn't a good idea for me to sit with him anyways. I'd just drool all over his already ruined jacket.
As I walked passed his row I whispered, "I'm sorry." Just loud enough for him to here. He nodded his head curtly.
Jerk. I thought internally. Once I was far enough away I let out an irritated sigh, half aimed at myself, the other aimed at the bronze haired beauty. I was mad at myself for my up and down mood this morning. At first sight, I was hooked, no doubt about it. After I regained the sensible side, I made a deal with myself (how pathetic) that I'd stay away from him. Which should have been easy because we're in a freaking airport! But no the fickle finger of fate had other ideas for me. I rarely believed in fate, but I liked the saying 'fickle'. So I ended up breaking the deal I had made with myself (even more pathetic) by practically going out of my way to see him again. I'm so stupid. I'd never have a chance with him or really anyone remotely good in this world. And as soon as this plane re landed and the gates were open, I'd definitely never see him again. Ok we have a resolution there.
Now for that bronze haired green eyed mystery. His mood was so sour, even more sour than someone who just had coffee spilled all over him. Instinctually I knew it was more than the coffee and the exhaustion. Even though logically, all signs pointed to the time of day and the situation for his mood, I was far beyond logical right now. So I sat, internally battling with all these conjectures inside my head.
I must've dozed off because the next thing I knew the flight attendant was giving us permission to use electronic devices. I sighed and stretched in the small space provided. Stupid coach seats.
I leaned down into my purse and dug around for my ipod. Just another reminder of this morning, everything was disorganized in our rush to make the flight. Ah. Our. Argh.
I found my ipod and started unraveling the ear phones when something occurred to me. There was a long gash on the front screen. I didn't remember how that came about. Instinctually I flipped my ipod over, hoping to find my favorite quote instead there was a name engraved on it. I gasped.
Suddenly it became clear. In flashes I saw half of my belongings on the floor, mixed with the bronze haired man's. Two identical white ipod videos lying side by side, he grabbed one, I grabbed the other.
I named this story after the song "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles. Check it out if you haven't because it's freaking awesome. Thank you for reading! :PPPPP