peppermint to be // bronnie

xvi

Being in an airport with a man you've for the past couple of months only observed from a distance was strange. Being in a relationship with that man and waiting at the gate for a plane that will bring you both to his hometown is even more strange. Around us were disgruntled post-Christmas travelers and in any other situation I'd want to end my life in that situation -- but with Brandon holding my hand behind our bags, I wanted to end my life significantly less.

Brandon looked at me and noticed my discomfort. "Hey," he whispered behind our bags sitting on the chairs between us. I reluctantly looked at him. "I love you."

He was so nice it was annoying. "I'm gonna tickle you through the entire flight."

He chuckled, "good, I hate flying."

"What?"

"Yeah. I hate it so much -- I get scared every time."

I laughed, "God, that's adorable as if I couldn't love you more!"

"There's nothing adorable about having a panic attack in the sky."

"Is this -- why you're holding my hand right now?"

"Yes -- but I also like holding hands with attractive people."

"Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

He gave me a Brandon trademarked grin, one so pure I wished I could capture it. He squeezed my hand and turned away from me. It took me a minute to peel my eyes off him. When I did, it took me no more than 10 seconds to start staring at him again. To have him there to look at whenever I pleased was too good to be true, so I decided to look at him as much as I could to savor the moment.

****

Brandon's mood drastically changed when we started boarding. He was pale as we walked down the ramp to the plane. I couldn't hold his hand with all the people around us, but best believe I wanted to carry him to our seat and just hold him until we landed.

"Are you okay, baby?" I murmured in his ear as we stopped on the ramp, waiting for the people in front of us to load.

"As okay I can be," he croaked back.

I moved next to him and looked around to see if anyone was watching before gently rubbing against his hand with my pointer finger. "What can I do?" I asked.

"Be with me."

We began walking forward until we were on the plane. The attendants greeted us and I greeted them back as if my boyfriend wasn't on the verge of an anxiety attack. We walked down the plane to our seats. "I'll take care of your bag," I told Brandon.

He blankly slipped off his backpack and handed it to me before taking his seat. I put our bags in an overhead then quickly slid past Brandon and sat in the window seat next to him. I watched as he shakily put on his seatbelt. I kissed below his ear, this time not caring if anyone was looking at us. "Hey, we're going be fine, okay?"

He put up the arm rest in between us and picked my hand and held it in his lap. "It's better when you're here," he said.

I was praying that the seat next to us was going to be unoccupied so I could give Brandon as much physical affection as he needed. Despite how hard I hoped and prayed, an old woman briskly waddled over and sat in the empty seat, pushing her purse under the seat in front of her, doing absolutely normal things that I shouldn't be mad at.