Fly Away [Louis Tomlinson]

Chapter 2

For a moment, my hands had a slight hesitation on the keyboard of my laptop and my body froze. I wasn’t sure on what was best to do when a homeless guy miraculously guessed your name, but I was hoping that he wasn’t as dangerous as he seemed to be. 

I turned to my left cautiously, hiding my face as much as possible in my dark brown hair. When I was fully watching the weird man with genuine confusion and consideration, he blindly lowered the grey hood off his head, but not completely; low enough to see his facial features continued by the boundary of a light brown hair, a long neck and the upper part of a loose, blue shirt. That was all I could see; a face, expressing nothing but shock and insecurity. There was something more behind the blue eyes getting watery by the minute, something bad, but I didn’t see what. He had a filthy chin, under some white lips hanging in the shape of an “o”, that was begging for a shave, as well as dark circles under his eyes were screaming for sleep.

By the looks of it, I supposed that he was expecting me to recognise him, yet with a hint of fear and hesitance. But that told me nothing; whatever he wanted me to see, I didn’t.

At that point I realised he was almost completely bent over me, his body hanging out of his seat but over mine. I automatically grimaced and moved to the furthest space I was allowed to, as soon as my nostrils felt the strong smell of alcohol.

“Err, excuse me?” I tried to sound reasonable, but the constant twist on my lips was probably ruining my attempt.

His eyes throbbed for a second and his mouth closed, as he slightly stepped back. A quick shiver shook my body when I was relieved again, but I still felt like the look in his eyes wouldn’t let me go. This time, though, something was different; his lips were trembling, as if he was trying to smile but forgot how to do it. I took a moment to question the obvious sadness written all over his being, but it didn’t last too much.

“You… You really are…” a strangled whisper escaped his dry neck, with his eyes swimming in tears - very manly, may I add.

I was starting to doubt his sanity, when I was suddenly thrown in an awkward, bone crushing hug over the seats. His body was shaking violently on mine, and I could feel his heart racing crazily on my chest. His face was buried into my shoulder, immobilizing me deadly well.

“Alive, you’re alive! This whole time I thought…and we, I…” he cried, mumbling endless, unintelligible things.

The first instinct was to struggle and fight back, but as I already felt numerous pairs of eyes glued to the scene, I decided to keep my calm. Slowly, but with a firm gesture, I pushed the weak body back and released myself out of the strong grip. His face, looking even worse with the continuous tears rolling down his disgusting, red face, showed both disbelief and pure hurt. His lower lip trembled, as he looked at me with a broken look.

Long ago, this image would have melted my heart, just as I felt it did with the other watchers on the plane. Now, all I could see was a repulsive image I could barely look at.

“Do you…” he gulped, staring at my cold expression, “Do you not remember me?”

The way his voice broke at the end would have been easily tagged as heartbreaking, but I only raised my eyebrows and watched him sardonically.

“No.” I spoke coldly, starring back at him. “And I don’t think I’d wish to.”

Two teardrops rolled down his cheeks at the same time as he blinked, just as I heard a few persons gasping. I had to fight to keep my giggles silent.

“But--“

As if on cue, a flight attendant passed by our seats and I immediately put my laptop down, soon standing up. I didn’t bother to move by the guy’s legs, as I just signaled her to stop and come over.

“Excuse me, are there any other empty seats on the plane?”

“Oh, I--“ she began, but was cut off when a terrible cry made everybody quiet. I realised it was mine. 

“LET ME GO!” I screamed, watching my bag fall on the floor with the sudden movement around, praying that the laptop wouldn’t follow it right behind. My stomach was being strangled by a strong, desperate pair of arms hanging over their owner’s seat. The body, weak as it was, had an astonishing power of fighting my struggles.

“Shannon, please…” he begged, but I continued to fight.

“I DON’T KNOW YOU!” I exclaimed, as several security people and random passengers were now trying to get me out of the strong grip.

As soon as I felt myself free and I could properly gasp for air again, the same men snatched my attacker out of his seat and started pushing him away from me. I noticed them bringing the helpless, terrified guy’s hands together and joining them with handcuffs, while he was fighting to get back at me. I soon noticed that my brown, dusty bag was missing, being randomly thrown on the floor by pairs of feet in the hectic crowd.

“No, my bag!” I yelled, letting myself fall on the floor with the hope of reaching it. To my horror, I didn’t; and with the wild movement of the fight, it was slowly traveling far away from me.

I threw myself to the front one more time, and smiled when I felt the dusty material sliding on my fingers. I was getting ready to stand up, just as I found myself where I feared I’d be; in the middle of the crowd. When I looked up, crawling on my knees, my eyes were locked for a moment with the sight of the earlier blue irises. They were scared and worried, and they were still begging me to do something. My mouth opened and closed, unable to make my mind up.

“Miss, please return to your seat.” a sweet voice suddenly said, as I felt someone picking me up from the ground.

At first, I protested, but I made sure that the handbag was safely resting on my chest and I let her lead me to the front of the plane. When I looked back, I saw him again, being dragged back by multiple hands. He looked at me again and mouthed something short, just as they were preparing to lead him behind a strange door in the far back, somewhere around the toilet. I didn’t understand, but as people finally managed to push him back, his head was already completely exposed, a bed hair starting to fly in different directions. I found it funny how it hadn’t fallen up until then, as he just managed to keep his head as less exposed as possible. But the moment he looked at the people and them at him, the door was closed with a thud.

“Storage room. That should keep him from disturbing anyone else.” A tall man spoke sternly, loud enough for the entire, unexpectedly silent plane to hear.

I knew I had all the rights to be surprised, as I had never experienced something like that before, so I couldn’t have known what they did in those cases, but I was still trembling in shock. They locked him.

My mind had completely been washed; I couldn’t think straight or remember what I was supposed to. I thought that I would finally get to have a break of silence, now that the trouble was gone, but it only took a shy, young voice to prove me how wrong I was.

“Was that Louis Tomlinson?”

 It was obvious she didn’t want everyone to hear the question she spoke just as I was sitting back down, judging by the awkward reaction she had at her own echo. Yet, everybody heard it, just as the empty silence was suddenly covered by the pilot’s voice, announcing the take off. The normal buzz was slowly starting to form again in the background, and still, my mind was empty. All it could process was the shock and realisation, mixed with the one word that now looked so obvious in my head.

It wasn’t a word; no, it was far away from that. It was a name my own lips would articulate in the past; a nickname I once loved.  There was no doubt it was him, but there was a piece of puzzle that just didn’t fall in place, a particle that could jumble the entire equation; Why? Why would he be here? And most important, what could I get out of it?

My lips curled up in a small smile, tasting the thrill of the newly started game.