Serendipitous

Part 17

Persephone

With a sigh, I grab a hold of my suitcase handle, putting all my weight into my arms as I force it from the bottom of the bus. I never realised I was this heavy of a packer until I started working, I swear, I don't even know why I pack half the things I pack. I tug and tug and tug, a wave of exhaustion flowing over me. I'm on my fourth tug (literally, why is this stupid thing so heavy??) when a warm hand crosses over mine, tugging the case out from the undercarriage easily. I turn my head, unable to stutter out a thankyou to Max's self-satisfied smirk before his own head drops, pressing his lips to my forehead. Their warmth couldn't have been touching my skin for more than a few seconds, but in my world of events, the world seems to slow around me, with each event slowed like a picture show. Eventually though, and probably longer than what is deemed socially acceptable for a situation like this

"Why aren't you inside already?" I ask, pushing a breathless strand of hair from in front of my eyes as I stare up at Max. On trips like this, it's normal for the players to shut themselves into their rooms the second they reach the hotel, and for the team's staff (a.k.a. me) to run around getting things prepared, well after the player's get settled. So technically, by this ruling, Max should already be standing in the lobby, not nestled next to my ear, breathing hot breath onto my skin, and causing goosebumps to arise out of thin air.

"Why? To leave you hopeless and stranded on the side of the road? Never." I snort, attempting to take my case from Max. He doesn't let me though, keeping his hand planted firmly on the handle, and raising a challenging eyebrow. His own bag is slung over his shoulder, (he's a much lighter packer than me) and in that moment, I give up fighting. He can be all macho and carry my bag if he wants to, it's his funeral, not mine.

"I was not hopeless and stranded, thankyou very much." We turn, and I press my hands further into my pockets. The cold, dark air flies around us, blasting every inch of uncovered skin I have. I'm already wearing Max's beanie on my head, the one thing I managed to forget in my mass of luggage.

"So this was just... what..." Max's eyebrows shoot up comically, as he surveys the environment around us. "You vs case. MMA?"

"Yeah, I whooped her ass."

"With my help."

"A tag-team."

"Meaning you still needed me out here, or you would have failed, miserably?" Max reaches around my body, pushing the hotel lobby door open from behind. He shoots me grin before I turn my head, stepping into the warmth with an already warmed heart.

"...No?"

"You don't sound overly confident there."

"I would have been able to get it out..."

"Eventually."

"Right."

"If I hadn't helped you, I would have looked out my window while doing a shit tomorrow morning, and still, you would have been struggling." A loud giggle escapes me throat, but I quickly slap a hand over my mouth and lower my voice level, spying at least a dozen sets of eyes on me. Max simply lowers his head, chuckling to himself silently.

"Doing a shit?"

"It's the best way to start your morning." I spy Max's expression suspiciously, looking for any sign of humour or a joke. When I don't find anything other than his usual daring look, I can't help but laugh in surprise. Or fright. Probably both. Hah.

"I think we're becoming a little too close."

Max snorts, moving an inch closer, until our bodies bump together in sync, his bag-laden arm curling around my waist.