#ayeehood

Before you could contemplate this too much though, your row partner took his seat next to you in the aisle seat. You gulped, unsure if having a conversation with him would be something to ease or fray your nerves. Either way, it had to be better than thinking of your own demise if something happened to this God forsaken plane during the flight. So you turned to him, poised to introduce yourself when you were startled to find him already looking at you. He smiled easily, extending his hand to your seemingly disrupted expression, and then he spoke, “Hi. I’m Calum.” You nodded, shaking his hand as you composed yourself with a self-deprecating laugh. “Y/N,” you replied, a smile falling onto your features that seemed to match his as you let out a shaky breath and glanced back out the window beside you.

“Afraid of flying?” he asked, noticing your frightened demeanor. You nodded sheepishly, “Usually. Not to mention I’m just nervous for what I’m flying to London for anyways, so that doesn’t help.” Calum let out a low chuckle. “Well, don’t worry,” he assured you, “You’ll probably be able to fall asleep since it’s such a long flight, and we’ll be there before you know it.”

You smiled, your distress beginning to slowly fall away as you felt your body relax, the conversation with the man next to you seeming to bring you deeper and deeper into a sense of security. Until the plane started speeding down the runway. Your eyes were wide, staring out the window as you felt the safety of ground beneath your feet – or wheels, or whatever – leave you. Your heart rate sped up as the plane angled sharply to get higher vantage in the clouds, when Calum gently grabbed your arm, reaching across you to pull the plastic shade over the window.

“Not staring down thousands of feet below will probably help,” he stated quietly, looking at you with a bemused expression on his face as you slowly came back to him, allowing your muscles to relax again as you tried to dismiss the nausea that had found its way into your gut. “Thanks,” you uttered, a small grin curving along your mouth. “No problem,” he returned, the same smile gracing his features as he pulled back into his own seat. You leaned your head back into your chair, attempting to let sleep make the nearly 11-hour flight feel much shorter. Surprisingly, you fell asleep rather quickly, but a bit of turbulence was quick to wake you. You were unsure of how long you’d actually been asleep, but after about five unsuccessful minutes of trying to settle yourself back into slumber, you peeked open an eye, peering at Calum from your vantage point where you could see his tray table. He was writing something. A story? A list? You tried to get a better look without drawing his attention.

He was writing a song, you realized a split second too late, when he turned his head so his warm gaze met yours. You jumped, a bit caught off guard at him catching you whilst you were so plainly trying to see what he was working on. You were unsure of how he would react, but he just laughed softly, bringing the piece of paper in between you and him as he invited you to read it. How could you have expected anything else? With a glance at him and his affirming nod, you turned your full attention to the sheet of paper. As you read the verses and bridge and different words that shaped themselves into a story, you became increasingly impressed. You felt Calum’s gaze on you, seemingly searching for your opinion. “Wow,” you breathed, true admiration blooming in your chest, “That’s beautiful.”

He was quick to reply with a rushed, “It’s not finished, but – what?”

You laughed, the previously assured boy’s confidence fading into a different kind of nerves than you’d been earlier experiencing. “I said it’s beautiful. It’s a lovely song,” you repeated, grinning at the happiness that fell onto his face. “Really?” he questioned. You nodded. And that’s how it started. Your off and on conversations that took place over the duration of the entire flight, in between both of your naps and your reading and his writing. You slowly learned more and more about him to the point where you felt as if you knew him pretty well, which felt like something that would be impossible in such a short span of time, but you supposed that when talking to a stranger for practically an entire long haul flight, you would get to know them fairly well.

You knew he was in a band, he had a sister, and he was travelling a lot for work right now. You learned his favorite color, movie, food. He told you the stories of embarrassment that had chased him throughout his adolescence. And he learned about you. You told him you were going to London to meet up with your boyfriend for the first time in what felt like forever, and that when you thought about meeting him and having to give a good first impression to all of his friends, you felt like abandoning the plan altogether. You told him about your job, and your parents, and your high school stories. You told him a lot. More than some of your friends know. And even though you both knew a lot about the other now, you couldn’t help the inexplicable feeling in your stomach to know more, to talk more, to see him more. After another interval of talking, you’d somehow both fallen asleep during the conversation. You woke up to the sound of a flight attendant’s voice, notifying you of your approaching arrival. Slowly raising your head in your sleepy haze, you realized you’d been asleep on Calum’s shoulder with his head atop yours. Without the support of your head beneath his, he slowly slumped further towards you. Smiling, you gently shook his shoulder in an attempt to wake him.

After a chorus of whispered “Calum”’s and a few soft pokes to his face, he slowly blinked open his eyes. Noticing his proximity to you, he hesitantly backed away. You frowned, “What’s wrong? We’re landing soon.” “Exactly,” he said lowly, the rasp in his groggy tone more apparent. “What? You don’t want to land?” you said, a giggle falling from your mouth as you playfully poked his bicep. “No, not particularly,” he responded, taking the stuff he had out on his tray table and packing it back into his backpack. “What’s got into you?” you mumbled, not feeling like you particularly had a right to question him so much, but nonetheless asking. “It’s nothing,” he replied, sounding defeated. He rubbed his eyes, “Nothing. I’m sorry.” You nodded, remaining unconvinced and disliking the new wave of tension between the two of you that you hadn’t felt the entire flight. You followed his suit, packing your book and headphones into your bag as you clicked on your phone. No service internationally. You clicked it off. For about 5 more minutes of the plane’s descent, you and Calum were silent. Your nerves began to return as meeting up with your boyfriend and his friends became more imminent.

Calum’s voice interrupted your thoughts, “Sorry I acted weird when I woke up. I just… This flight’s been nice, and I didn’t – don’t – want it to end, because that means you’re going to be gone. And I know you have a boyfriend, and I’m not trying to fuck anything up or be a homewrecker or whatever, but – “ Your laugh made him pause. “What?” he questioned. You smiled, “Sorry, it’s just, I think I’d have to be married and have kids or something for you to be considered a homewrecker.” Despite himself, he chuckled lightly, “You know what I meant.” You weren’t sure what all this meant, but you knew you were here in London to see your boyfriend, and you were going to. But you also knew you didn’t want Calum to be a stranger you only knew for 11 hours on a plane. You grabbed a pen from your bag, quickly pulling a napkin the flight attendants had failed to collect from your tray table towards you, and began writing out your phone number. “This won’t work until I’m back in the U.S., but here,” you stated, handing Calum the napkin, “Call me, or text me, or something. Okay?” A small smile found its way back onto his face as he nodded, “I will.”

You felt the impact as the wheels of the plane touched down on the runway, and you instinctively grabbed Calum’s hand, your fears about flying not forgotten even at your return to the ground. For a moment it looked like Calum wanted to pull away, but you shook your head a fraction of an inch, decidedly interlacing your fingers. “Friends can hold hands,” you said with a laugh. He nodded, not saying anything, just leaning over you to open the window shade he’d previously closed, revealing the outside world speeding past you as you neared the airport. “Welcome to London,” he said, looking down at you. Before you knew what was happening, he was kissing you. You indulged for too long, far too long for someone who has a boyfriend. Yet he pulled back first, whispering a short apology before leaning back into his seat, your hands still intertwined.

Like I said, there’s more. Send me requests/let me know if you want more here. (: