» "STOP, PLEASE THAT'S MY PLANE," I yell.
As you can pretty guess, I am not quite the girl on time. I am almost always late; to meetings, rendez-vouz with my friends and even in school I was- but I don't want to talk about anything I have just successfully ended with. Finally.
My tired feet bring me to the man who is standing in front of an entrance, which I assume is mine. He has brown hair and eyes, really handsome as well. I think he is about twenty-three-ish.
I manage to smile at him. It's kind of hard, after running through the whole airport building.
"Th-that's... phew, thats my plane," I explain, still out of breath.
But the man just smirks down at me, dimples deepening in his red cheeks.
"Don't worry, Ms., the plane hasn't started yet. You have still the chance to get inside," he nods politely.
"Oh...um...Well, thank you," I mumble and my cheeks are turning to a deep red shade, darker than his ones.
I bite my lip, passing the tall frame of a man. His eyes follow my movements, as I trip over my own feet. Thank God I don't fall on my knees, but I know that his eyes are still checking me out, while I straighten myself to enter the plane.
Yep, girls just know when male eyes are focused on their bum!
I walk straight to the entrance as another staff greets me. It is a woman, I think a stewardess, all dressed in blue.
"Welcome to British Airways, I hope you'll be fine and we are having a non-turbulent flight to Dublin, Ireland." She smiles.
The lipgloss makes her mouth appear bigger and her blue eyes are glossy. I don't know if she has cried or if she has something like a lash in her eye. Well you don't have to pay for a question...
"Is everything okay with you?" I ask, stepping to the side to let all the other passengers inside, but it seems like I am the last one. Everyone has already taken place in their seats.
"Sure." She smiles widely.
"But then, why were you crying?" Me and my curiousity again.
Her smile grows even wider, making me frown slightly. Is she hiding something or is she actually happy?! Maybe these are tears of joy...
"Oh no, don't worry. I just got promoted!" She whispers the last part, maybe she isn't allowed to tell anyone yet.
"Well that's amazing." I smile.
"Yes, but you have to take a seat now. I don't wanna lose my job right after my luck, but thank you for caring about me though-" Her grin doesn't vanish and I smile back, before I turn to the left to search for my seat.
Business-people, tourists, families and random people are sitting in these few rows. From brunette to readhead, blue-eyed to gray, skinny or curvy, young and old. I find my seat between a young, black business man, who wears a suit, and an old woman with gray, curly hair. The man's eyes are focused on the screen of his laptop in front of him and the granny is reading a conservative British magazine, called 'Spectator'.
I sit down between them and take my E-book out of my bag, before I place it between my feet.
I click on 'Mockingjay' by Suzanne Collins and lean back against the not so very soft seat. I haven't started the book yet, because I just finished the second one 'Catching Fire' on the train to Birmingham last weekend. So I am at the part where Katniss is back home and she starts to think about her past in District 12.