Preference 14: On a plane: (Zayn):
Preference 14: On a plane: (Zayn):
Row 12, seat 1; you made your way down the aisle, past people cramming their too big of bags into the overhead storage, past mothers handling their screaming children, past the lost souls frantically searching for their seats. Breathing a sigh of relief as your seat came into view, you placed your messenger bag in the place left for you in the above head storage, and took your seat next to a black-haired man. Not thinking twice, you settled into a comfy position, closing your eyes, waiting for the stewardess to make her usual announcements.
Once everyone settled down, she began the schpeel, consisting of exit locations and seatbelt directions - nothing new to you. “You’re flying alone?”
You found yourself cocking your head to the left, a pair of brown eyes meeting yours. You couldn’t help but stare, as his features were sharp, his jawline grazed with stubble, and his black hair disheveled. Feeling your cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, you dropped your eyes and remembered his question. “Yeah,” you respond, quieter than you meant. “You, too, huh?” A small smile pulled at your lips, and when you brought your eyes back to his, he couldn’t suppress his smile.
“You got me.” White teeth poked out from behind his plump lips. “Where are you off to, being alone and all?”
“I’m visiting my family,” you replied honestly. “They live overseas; I try to visit for birthdays and stuff…”
He nodded, shifting to a more comfortable position, resting the back of his head against the headrest. “What brings you over?”
“Work.” You mentally cursed yourself at your curtness and bit back your tongue. He replied once again with a nod, and you realised he was trying to make conversation, but wasn’t one to strike up conversations with strangers.
“Me too.” With that, you gave one more polite smile and pulled out your headphones, turning your music on and shutting your eyes, hoping for a long flight of rest. Turbulence was not a factor you considered in your flight plans, though. Every now and then - right when you were about to doze off - the plane shook just the right amount to jolt you from your restful state. You poked open one eye to look around annoyedly, and found the man with the brown eyes glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. He’d turn towards the window before you got the chance to say anything, and every time, you could notice the pink tint on his cheeks. Biting your lip to hide your smile, you dropped your head back to the seat and shut your eyes, not wanting to look away from the handsome man, but feeling uncomfortable and foolish for staring.
The rest of the flight went by slowly, every now and then feeling the rumble of turbulence underneath you and vibrating up the seat. Before you knew it, you landed safely and were free to leave the cramped airplane and find your sister. While you were working on gathering your carry-on from the compartment above your seat, a man - quite large in stature - pushed past you, knocking everything from your arms. Stumbling forward into the seat, you braced for a fall - but nothing came. Instead, a pair of large hands wrapped around your arms, steading you against a broad chest. Your heart stopped. “Oh my - ” you mumbled, your cheeks flaming, stumbling for something to say. “I’m so sorry!”
A chuckled escaped his mouth. “Not a problem, love,” he replied.
Straightening, you crouched down, quickly gathering the fallen items, and abruptly stood, juggling all of the junk in your arms, trying not to make yourself look even more stupid - which, of course, was unavoidable. Lining up to exit the plane, you didn’t dare look back at the man you sat next to, thinking of how bad you just embarrassed yourself.
You weaved in and out of the crowd, meeting your sister at one of the gates. She gave you a welcoming hug, asked how you were - the normal routine. But, this time, you responded with a glare. “I sat next to the best looking man in the whole world. And I blew it - it was so embarrassing!” you groaned, rubbing your temple from frustration and staring at the ground.
She wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “What else is new?” she teased. The two of you began towards the baggage claim, waiting for your bag to roll around. “But how good looking was this guy?”
“His face was chiseled by gods.”
Your sister giggled, pointing out your bag, and offering to let you go back to find him. “You can’t let a guy like that go.”
“You should have seen how stupid I looked,” you replied, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “I didn’t even get his name - I’d look even more pathetic.” You were awarded with an eye roll and she escorted you to the exit of baggage claim.
You gasped as you were pulled to a stop by a hand on your shoulder. You twisted on your heel quickly, ready to tell off the bastard, extremely pissed off by how the events of the plane ride played out. Your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes landed on the brown ones from before. “You forgot this,” he whispered, breathing heavily, looking as though he was searching frantically throughout the whole airport to return this to you - and, eventually, you found out thats exactly what he had done.
“Thank you,” was all you could manage to say as he handed you the iPod that you forgot to pick up after you dropped all of your stuff back on the plane. He gave you another smile and turned around, leaving you with the iPod and a mess of headphones. Untangling the cords, you found the small piece of scratch paper with his name and number scrawled over it in chicken scratch. A smile broke out on your face and you turned to your sister who stood with her mouth ajar and eyes wide.
“After how many years of being sisters, you're going to tell me you don’t recognize Zayn Malik?”
