Carry On

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After what seemed like three of the longest months of your life, you were finally at the airport; a small bouquet of black and purple flowers in your hand, an eye on the arriving flights, and a smile on your face. Rhea's flight was coming in on time, according to the screen. Giddy with anticipation, you found the least crowded place to wait near the doors to the terminals. Your phone buzzed and you looked at the screen:

Text from: Mami

"Just landed, see you soon"

The text ended with a little black heart, which gave you butterflies when you saw it. Despite having waited months to see Rhea again, staying patient for the next 20 minutes - or however long it took for people to get off the plane - felt like a challenge. Trying to distract yourself, you start people-watching. The business professionals were easy to spot; their movements confident, clothes neat, never holding more than one suitcase and a carry-on. They flocked at any place that sold coffee. Occasionally, you notice people who are late for their flights - or seem to think they are; likely people who don't fly often. Turning your attention to the rows of seats near you in the waiting area, you watch a child with a serious expression playing some sort of dot-and-line game on paper with the adult that held their backpack. The man looks up from the paper, sees you with the bundle of flowers, and smiles knowingly before turning his attention back to the game. The rest of the people in your immediate area were a few adults, scattered across the seats; a couple were on their phones, one was seconds away from falling asleep, and another was reading a book.

The sound of the doors opening nearby makes you turn back around, excitedly watching a couple people come out into the waiting area. Slowly, more and more people begin to exit the doors to the terminals. Your eyes are glued to the doors, on the lookout for dark hair and dark clothes. It's a couple minutes before you finally see her come out through the doors: Rhea Ripley, pro-wrestler and absolute smokeshow. Jumping to your feet, you make a beeline for her. Locking eyes with you, she grins, eyes widening a bit when she realizes you're not slowing down as you run to her. Dropping her luggage at her sides, Rhea opens her arms to catch you as you jump up, wrapping your arms around her neck in a hug. Using the momentum you'd built, she spun you around, making you giggle, before setting you back on the ground.
"I missed you," is the first thing you say to her.
"I hadn't noticed," she jokes, picking up her luggage again before her eyes stop on the flowers in your hand, "Are those for me?"
"They're not nearly as gorgeous as you are" - you hand her the bouquet - "But they are Judgement Day colors."
"Thanks, love," Rhea brings them up to her nose and smiles at the fragrance, "I have something for you too" - she lowered her voice and leaned in a bit - "but you'll have to wait until we're alone before I can give it to you."

Those words gave you goosebumps, reminding you what it felt like to have her body pressed against yours. You bit your lip at the memory, now more eager than ever to get to your apartment.
"Can we stop by that food truck?" Rhea asked, standing behind you on the escalator, "There were a few things on the menu I didn't get to try last time."
"Definitely," you said, your stomach making a small noise in agreement.
Once you reach your car and Rhea's luggage is safely inside the trunk, she gently pushes you against the driver's side door. One hand on your waist and the other caressing your cheek, she runs her lips into yours and your happiness skyrockets - you can't help but smile into the kiss. The second her lips leave yours, she whispers, "I missed you too."

Neither one of you notices the teens walking by in the dimly-lit car park until one of them shouts "Woo, get some!" in your direction and then immediately makes an "oof!" noise.
"Don't be a dick!" - presumably this voice belonged to whoever hit the first kid. The rest of them start laughing.
Watching Rhea roll her eyes, you chuckle.
"Let's get in the car," you suggest, "I burned a CD for you."
She gives you a confused look and asks, "Sorry, what year is this again?"
You stick your tongue out at her, making her smile as she walks around to the passenger's side. The closing of the car doors echoed faintly as Rhea continued, "Really though, thanks for the-"
She stops upon reading the text you'd written on the CD you were currently holding up: "Edgy shit." You cackle maniacally, keeping the disc out of reach as she playfully punches your shoulder and starts to tickle you.

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