Cannes | H.S

Paradise

Layla

With the screeching sound and motion of tires hitting the ground after plentiful amounts of hours in the sky, I exhale out in peace, squeezing the hand of the man next to me as I slowly open my eyes. Despite the number of years in Hollywood, I have always and will always continue to despise flying. The amount of nausea that I acquire is ridiculous, forcing me to resort to medication to numb the unwanted pain and misery. But, this time, I have someone I can lean onto. In the past, I had Alfonzo, who while genuinely loyal and like a father, didn't thankfully whisper sweet words into my ear as we landed or took off into the clouds. This time, I had a partner in crime who provided a ear and shoulder to keep me at ease. He smells of wonderful and glorious peppermint as he hums peacefully my way, smiling brightly at my presence.

"Do you always get like this?" He asks me, wearing a look of concern mixed with hints of guilt.

"Unfortunately."

"Want me to tell you a joke?"

"God, no."

"Reckon it's a good one. Classic ten out of ten."

"Harry, one more joke and I'm jumping out of this plane."

"What do you call a bear with no ears?" He asks, dimples present, cheeks flushed with peach.

"I don't know, what?" I ask in response, awaiting the smile he holds captive, realizing my earlier threat held no true significance.

"A B!"

He laughs boldly and proudly as we near closer and closer to the airport. I give him a slight roll of my eyes as he softly giggles, leaning his head down onto my shoulder to rest. He wraps an arm around my waist, holding it in place before pressing a number of gentle kisses below my ear. I glance down at him as his joyful eyes meet my own in curiosity. "Want to hear another one?"

"Harry Styles...is this what you were reading the entire plane ride?"

"Maybe."

"I'm doomed, then. Completely, fucked."

"No, love listen. This is a great one. And as to your second request, I can find other ways to grant such a wish."

"I can't be seduced right now Styles, I'm far too nauseous to fall for your charm."

"You think I'm charming James?"

"Don't start."

"Oh, alright, listen. Why did the picture go to prison?"

"I don't know, why?"

"Because it was framed!"

I groan in response, unable to hide my own ridiculous smile as he grins at me happily, turning to kiss down my neck to kill the last remainder amounts of time we have left on the plane. I shut my eyes, lost in his touch and the pleasure it provides. However, the sudden sound of a snapshot nearby causes me to gasp, opening my eyes to see an older woman two rows up carefully holding her phone, stealing what should have been a delicately created moment between the two of us. I didn't think I had requested an audience. She knows she's been caught, saved by the bell as the pilot indicates we can now exit the plane. My heart is racing at the possibilities, but as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze, I'm returned back to earth and the man who holds my heart.

"Doesn't matter, Layla. Plenty more where that came from."

"Are you sure you don't mind this?" I ask for what feels like the hundredth time.

He nods in response, giving my cheek a faint kiss. "I told you, this is what I want. I'm done trying to hide it."

"Not what you did in the past," I add.