Serendipitous

Part 21

Persephone

The flight to Philadelphia goes by all too quickly. The ground moves to cloud in a blink of an eye, and it seems like my eyes have only just fallen shut when they fly open. A warm comfort is pressed against my ear as I return to the real world, and as I pull myself to sit upright, the comfort laughs softly. My cheeks flush a deep red before my brain can begin to process who it is I've fallen asleep on. I turn my face to the bright airplane window, but the ruffle of my hair pulls me back. A small grin spreads onto my face as I turn to Max, who is obviously trying not to reveal himself as the one who ruffled my hair. His lip curls over as he tries to supress himself from smiling, an action which only stretches my lips more. Ugh, I'm acting like such a smitten fan-girl right now, obsessed with a NHL player who is way too beautiful for me.

Shaking my head, I lift my left hand, flicking a floaty piece of hair from in front of Max's eye. I hear him scoff, and I can't help but tilt my head to see his expression.

"And what was that for?" He asks innocently, his eyebrow raised in mock-horror.

"You first." I flick him an almost-identical glance, watching as his expression breaks, his tongue swirling the inside of his cheeks as he fights back a laugh.

"You're a really comfortable pillow, you know? Maybe you should quit hockey and become a professional pillow." I say, fighting to be heard over the plane as it descends back to earth.

"Hmm... maybe I will then." I raise my eyebrows slightly, and let the air between us fall silent as we reach the tarmac. In the following few minutes, we wait as people swarm to the plane's opening doors. As we sit silently, my mind wanders to what awaits Max and I, at my parents place. I'm nervous, to say the least. My parents haven't even met my friends, who I've known for a lot longer than Max, and this is the first time I've ever brought anyone home. My mom is judgemental, to say the least, and from our minor phone calls, she already has a pre-conceived idea of who Max is, just like the media. She's happy that he's a rich guy, and for her, that's all that matters. She wouldn't dare to say it aloud, but she's probably just upset that I can't trap him with a pregnancy.

"You ready to go?" Max asks, as he stands from his seat to grab his bag from the overhead locker. I gather my smaller bag from under the seat in front of me and follow Max from our aisle, and towards the back of the plane where we head out of the door. Stepping out into the cold, I pull my coat tighter against my body, the harsh wind hitting me unexpectedly. Sensing my discomfort, Max takes a step closer and pulling my body into his. Without thinking twice, I let myself lean against his warm, muscular chest, taking in the faint familiarity of the air around us.

Max's hand slides from my outer arm to my inner hand as we reach the brightly-lit airport building, the feeling of his skin on my skin paired with the bleak temperature sending a shiver through my body. Max feels my body shuddering and bumps his shoulder into mine, whilst squeezing my hand tight with his fingers. I tilt my head to look towards him, the corners of my eyes crinkling as his lips turn into a sweet, soft grin. As we walk through the airport, I feel moisture near my eyes. It's the craziest feeling, when you find tears around your eyes with no recollection of crying. I quickly swat the tears away before Max can notice, with a small smile eventually reaching my eyes. It's at this exact moment, as we wait for our bags, hand in hand when there's no camera's around, that I realise I've never, ever felt like this before. This happy, this accepted in the life I've chosen to live.

I don't want to lose this. 

I can't  lose this.

I really can't. Without this... whatever Max and I have for ourselves, I don't know how I'd go on. I don't know who I'd lean on. In these few short months of knowing each other, I've felt myself grow closer to Max than anyone else I've met in my life. Because underneath all of this confusion of 'what' we are, Max and I are friends. And although I have a whole group of friends back in Boston, Max feels like a friend that I have all to myself. Which is a selfish thing to think, I know, but something entirely impossible to unthink.