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August 13th
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"How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard?"

-Winnie The Pooh

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Ethan's POV

We're late.

I feel absolutely terrible because I know Imani has this crazy thing about time. She just insisted that I drop her off three hours early, but I told her she was crazy. So, instead, I convinced her to watch another movie. We ended up falling asleep.

Now we have an hour and thirty minutes before her flight departs, and I just know that with a 6:30 flight time, the lines are gonna be crazy.

Pressing harder on the gas, I chew on the inside of my cheek as my grip tightens on the steering wheel. "We're fifteen minutes out," I say, reaching out to give Imani's thigh a light squeeze.

She presses her lips into a firm line, before taking my hand and holding it in hers. 

We're speeding now, and before I know it, we're at the airport. 

This moment is bittersweet. I knew this was inevitable, but I tried my best not to think about it. I know it this is best for Imani, but it still sucks. She's not even gone yet and I miss her dearly.

As soon as I pull into a parking spot and turn off the car, Imani leaps out, not even waiting for me to open the door like she usually does.

I grab her bags and follow after her as she nearly sprints through the doors. The way she's always begging to wear my clothes, I didn't even think she owed this much stuff.

I wait at the entrance for a moment before Imani comes back outside with a sheepish smile on her face. She holds the door open for me. "Thanks, Ethan."

I grunt in response as we get in line to check in. Dropping her bags to my feet, I stand behind her, watching as she taps her foot on the ground nervously.

"Chill," I whisper as I hug her from behind. I close my eyes for a moment, relishing in the warmth of her body. "You're gonna be fine."

Her delicate fingers wrap around my arms as she sighs, leaning into my embrace. I can tell she's still on edge, but at least she's not tapping anymore.

We stand in line for about fifteen minutes before we get to the front, and when we finally do, Imani is so prepared, it's slightly frightening. The whole encounter takes about five minutes, and to say I'm impressed would be an understatement. I watch her in awe as she grabs her boarding pass and smiles politely at the lady behind the counter. When did being responsible become so hot?

Imani turns to me with a look of confusion before, slapping my chest lightly. "Ethan, what are you doing? We need to go." She says bossily, grabbing one of the suitcases, huffing as she rolls it behind her.

"Sorry," I say, slightly amused as I grab the remainder of her bags and catch up to her. Her exhaustion is apparent even after I take away the suitcase that she's struggling to pull.  She sighs in relief, pausing to place her hands on her hips. I look at her pointedly as I try to suppress my laughter.

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