Supine 'til Aurora • Dan Howell

• Chapter 18 •

"Okay, Virtanen. I guess I'll see you in a couple of weeks." Dan rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands tucked deeply into his pockets.

Ashton, Alex and Phil were standing a few feet away, very vocally discussing Taylor Swift songs for some reason, leaving Dan and I to say goodbye properly.

We were stood outside my gate, my heart thudding in my chest. Even though I would see him soon, saying goodbye was still upsetting, which may seem ridiculous, and I was aware of that, but I also knew that in the few weeks in which I was away was gong to feel like months.

The bustle of the airport around us roared, the sound of chatter reverberating around the room, the clacking of shoes against the marble, the rolling of suitcase wheels, yet it seemed silent against the pulse thundering in my ears.

Slowly, Dan wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing all my attention from the people around us, back to him, as he looked down at me with soft eyes.

"Have a safe flight okay?" He smiled, wearily, then quickly pressed his lips lightly to mine, to which I kissed back, my chest seemingly weightless for those few seconds.

Having said my goodbyes to everyone else, I took hold of my suitcase and wheeled it over the marble flooring toward the gate, letting out a sigh as I passed it's threshold, turning back for a split second, seeing Alex and Phil waving enthusiastically, while Dan looked as if he wanted to crawl into a hole, his face bright red.
Grinning, I continued walking hearing Ashton call one last 'goodbye' as I turned the corner, completely out of sight.

○○○

"Sit back, and enjoy your flight."

My Spotify play list hummed out my earbuds as I nestled myself into my rubbery seat in an attempt to get comfortable, which was always in vain.

Thankfully, I was in a window seat, as always. On plains, I always subconsciously picked the inside seat; for some reason it made me feel less closed in to be able to look out the window and watch the plush clouds sweep past, or to see the miniature houses and cars as the plane takes off. To know the world continued on around each as usual made the whole flight less stressful.

Claustrophobia was always a problem I'd suffered from on planes. The window seat seemed to sooth it to an extent.

Slowly, resting my head back, I listened to my music, trying to block out the blaring engine noises and fall asleep as a way to escape from it all, and it didn't take long before I had nodded off into a shallow slumber.

• 11 Years Ago •

"I'm sorry, Mr. Virtanen... there's nothing we can do." His voice echoed off the polished, white walls, the singular pannelled window behind us letting in a stream of iridescent blue glow from the one street lamp on the opposite side of the road, as an eerie silence lapped over the room and the people in it, a harmonious wave of emotion rising into the hardened air.

My breathing hitched in my throat, my entire body weighted down as I watched my father press his hand to his forehead, shock crossing his face as Alex broke down beside me, Ashton standing across the room was drained of colour. His arms were crossed over his chest, as he stared at the copper coloured floor. It was clear he had visibly tensed up, his hands digging into his opposite forearms as he remained still, the pressure driving his knuckles whiter and whiter.

As I felt my body begin to shake, I looked over at my father, who was now simply still, suddenly unmoved by the news of my mother's inevitable death.
Obviously, at 15 I was aware mourning was different for everyone, and I knew that people found various ways of handling it, but my father simply seemed so carefree at this news; to the point where he even looked relieved.