Not What I Expected (A Marcel Fanfic)

Chapter 32

 The little game we play consists of Marcel closing his eyes and telling me where to go: turn left, turn right, or go straight ahead. His random directions lead us to LAX.

 "Open your eyes." I tell him, grinning. He obliges, opening them quickly, and a disappointed look settles on his face.

 "I hoped it would be something more... random." he admits.

 "We're here. Might as well go in."

 "Would that make you happy?" he turns his entire body to face me. I nod. "Then, we should go in."

 He unbuckles his seatbelt as my face grows warm, and my heart grows bigger and I'm just so flattered and purely amazed that he wants to make me happy. I replay his words again and again until he opens the door for me, to my surprise. I bite my lip and smile, stepping out. We walk to the entrance hand in hand at a very slow pace. The airport is pretty busy despite the darkness outside.

 "God, I love airports." I muse.

 "Really? Why?"

 "They're places where you go into the unknown, the first step into discovering new places and people. Whenever I go on vacation, the first thing I think about is the airport, not the destination. Also, I love planes. I'm scared of them, too, but I love them."

 We step past the glass doors and into the noise of the gate to the clouds. Yes, I know, so poetic. I stop in the middle of the sea of moving people, some of them desperately struggling with their luggage, some of them hugging or wiping tears away, some of them simply walking like robots. I look up at the departure panel as Marcel comes to my side.

 "We should fly away. Not today, but someday." I whisper to him.

 "Ok. We'll fly away and we'll come back once we miss L.A." his voice holds a lot of emotion, something I can't put my finger on though. He means it from the deepest depths of his soul; he'd fly away with me. I take his hand, filling the space between his fingers with my own.

 "Europe?" I suggest.

 "Maybe. Australia?"

 "We could. Norway." I smile; I've always wanted to visit Norway.

 "Sure, why not. But we could also go to Africa."

 "Yeah... Let's go get milkshakes." I pull him away from the huge screen that promises so many places, and walk to the nearest cafe that looks like it would serve milkshakes. We sit down and order two milkshakes, although secretly I wish the lady would only bring us one milkshake, and we could share it like we had on my birthday.

 The little cafe isn't very crowded, just a young girl on her laptop, and a middle-aged man sipping a coffee.

 "What places did you visit?" I turn my attention to the green eyed boy in front of me, focusing on him and him only.

 "I never left America. I visited Canada, Mexico and I've been to Argentina when I was little so I don't remember much. What about you?"

 "I almost visited the entire American continent! The entire U.S.A, although I never got a summer road trip like I always wanted, Latin America, Canada, Alaska, Hawaii, the Caribbean... My dad loves to travel; I think I got it from him."

 He smiles, showing his dimples, looking straight at me. I can't help but smile back, trying hard to not break into a grin. How is he so handsome? How is he so perfect? How is he everything I've always wanted, but never imagined I'd have? I shake my head in disbelief, tearing my eyes away from his own. His leg brushes against mine under the table. The waitress brings us our milkshakes and I sip half of it in the first twenty seconds. Marcel watches me amused, but after a while the gleam in his eyes disappears, a crease appears between his brows and his lips are no longer curled up in a smile. I could practically see the upsetting thoughts float inside his mind.