sh•mg | oneshots

20 Dollar Nose Bleed 🗺

"Not at all." I tried to keep a straight face but instead looked like I was puncturing my bottom lip.

I finally looked up and watched him use those big, strong, taunt muscles to lift his suitcase into the overhead, his forehead creased with concentration as he pushed the last bit up. I could help but stare at the way his shirtsleeves couldn't hide a thing; this boy definitely worked out. He sat down and held out my purse, which I took.

"You were saving this for me?" He was referring to the seat.

"Not really for you, more for me." I didn't look away from my phone. I wasn't even doing anything productive. He knew that.

"God, is it possible to fall for someone so quickly?" He was staring at the side of my head. I lifted my eyes.

Blue.

Very, very pretty blue.

"W-what?"

"You need to loosen up a bit." He derailed the entire conversation. I wonder if it's because he's scatterbrained or because he was insecure about my answer.

"I'm very loose." I contradicted, but then I realised what I said and my eyes widened in shock as his jaw dropped open and we lost it at the exact same time.

Good thing we were at the back of the plane.

"Oh, gosh. Didn't peg you as the type." He said easily, still chuckling from his laugh attack. I loved his laugh lines.

"What can I say? I'm a very horny girl." I teased, finally buckling my seatbelt at the sound of the intercoms.

"Maybe I could help with that." He whispered; the click of his seatbelt is what I chose to focus on.

After that flight attendant pre-scripted safety presentation that made you feel better about yourself was over, the plane finally began to move.

"Are you afraid of planes?" He leaned over and asked.

"No." I replied shortly, still gazing out the window.

"Okay." He said, and began to fidget.

"Are you afraid of planes?" I countered.

"No." He clarified, "I was just asking because you were staring out of the window."

"Okay." I said.

I didn't believe a word. He was trying to get me to find comfort in him. Sorry, Mr. Triceps, I don't play weak.

"You really need to loosen up. All innuendos aside." He grabbed my hand that was resting on my lap. I fought to keep unfazed but his hand was so warm and it's been so long...

"Why are you holding my hand?"

"Loosing you up, babe. Relax. We're going to Paris. You said you were running away; what are you running away from?" He interlocked our fingers and rubbed my index finger with his thumb.

I JUST MET THE GUY!

"Um..." I sighed. There was absolutely no point in holding back. He was just so- foreword.

"I ran away from myself, I guess? People turn to drugs and alcohol, and my therapist suggested a blog, but no, I like to run away to different countries." I don't know why I'm telling him this.

"Life was just getting too hard and I hated being me. I hated who he made me into. It's like that one person who ruined everything that you want to forget about, but they still have power over you. Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I felt like I was whisper-yelling. Why was he still listening? The plane had begun to speed down the runway.