This Won't Have A Name For A While

19. Communication

I looked up at the man through bleary eyes, just to confirm what I’d heard. Had John really shown up? When I looked, what I saw was his concerned face, those beautiful features twisted into worry, only inches from mine, searching my own face which was red and puffy from crying. I sniffed.

–“Oh my god, Irene, are you alright?”– He questioned desperately, needing to know what was bothering me so much.

Without even giving me time to answer, he immediately pulled me to my feet and into a huge hug. I couldn’t have been more grateful (although he’d been the source of my misery) and I buried myself in his chest, using his shirt to dry my eyes.

–“What’s wrong, love?”– He asked me quietly, stroking my back reassuringly.

I sighed, half because I was completely shattered after my ordeal, and half because his touch made me want to pin him down and kiss him, right here in the middle of the airport. Even though it was pointless, I tried to clean up my messed-up makeup, and wiped my eyes. I noticed the patches of mascara I’d left on john’s partially-open white shirt. Whoops.

Finally, I burst out with, “I thought you were gonna leave me here, John! You took so long to arrive, I thought I’d been stood up!” My voice was shaky, and full of emotion, yet defiant.

He looked almost offended; I could see it in his eyes as he stared down at me, arms firmly wrapped around my waist now.

–“What makes you think I’d stand you up, Irene?”– his hurt showed through in his voice, “Did I not make it clear that I wanted to be with you?”

But how could I be sure of his word, having only known him intimately for a week at best?

–“Well, it’s just that you’re ridiculously famous, and I just take photos for a living. I thought you might’ve decided I wasn’t good enough, or forgotten about me, or-”– I managed, but John cut me off mid-sentence.

–“I would never, ever do that. How could I forget you, Irene? I certainly don’t ever want to.”– He was gushing too, now.

Slowly, one of his hands moved from my waist, and came to rest on my face. He held my jaw in a soft and caring way I thought him incapable of, especially considering what we’d done at the hotel, before kissing me gently. I hadn’t had time to notice previously, but his lips were really soft, and I wanted to feel them more. The kiss wasn’t without passion, but he definitely held back a little. Although, I was glad of it, since we were still in the middle of a public place.

–“Does that prove my point?”– He questioned, after pulling away just as gently.

Through this sudden act, my sudden onslaught of exhaustion, and the fact I was shaking from the adrenaline previously, I was rendered unable to reply with words of any kind. So I nodded. This sufficed as a reply for him, and upon properly seeing the state I’d worked myself into, John instructed me to sit down, ‘for my own health’ he told me. I happily obliged, since I was feeling lightheaded and shivery. John, being the gentleman he was today, also offered me his jacket, but I politely declined. I was never usually this flaky, and it was time to snap out of it. Instead, I utilised his shoulder as a headrest, and he let me. Again, his arm found some way to claim me.

–“We should probably check in our luggage, at least,”– I suggested after a few minutes. After all, the time was ticking down now.

–“Oh, shit!”– John sprang to his feet, –“we had to be queuing fifteen minutes ago, at the latest!”–

I leapt up, too, and grabbed my suitcase just in time for him to whisk me away by the hand and start running. Clearly the drama for the day was not yet over. We wound hastily around couples and families milling about, attracting some odd looks of which I couldn’t work out the cause (there was bound to be more than one in this instance), and soon our first destination was in sight. With a sense of purpose, we marched through the check-in desk, deposited our suitcases, and were off to board without looking back. How could we now, after we’d gotten this far?

Our next stop was security, which didn’t take long, but since we were running on a tight schedule, minutes felt like hours. Then we were running again. Down one terminal after another, and holding tight onto our hand luggage to stop it flapping about. After what felt like a lifetime, we could finally stop, since we’d reached the end of the gloomy-looking terminal. And it was a good job we had ran, because the staff were about to shut the gate. We were almost turned away, until John flashed his first-class tickets (I’d expected no less of him), and they let us onboard.

We were still panting heavily when we reached first class, and as soon as we found our seats, we collapsed in them like we were dead. I certainly felt like I was. Beside me, John was suffering just as much, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I grinned a little when it reminded me of our last encounter in bed.

Then it occurred to me that, in the middle of the rushing and the emotional turmoil, I’d forgotten this was my first time on a plane. I gazed around me at all the commotion going on - the bustling families, the poor businessmen trying to get some work in, the odd helping of quiet and mysterious-looking people, and the air stewardesses attempting to quiet everyone down. John, laying back and closing his eyes, seemed unbothered. He’d flown all over the world with his bands, but I was in awe at our plane, and the people on it. I reclined in my first-class seat and gazed out of the window at the long tarmac runway, wondering how the hell we’d manage to take off in this thing. It was starting to worry me a little - I’d never flown in my life. What was it going to be like?

When the time finally came around to take off, John held on to my hand, seeing how pale I’d gone.

–“Don’t worry, Irene,”– he told me, grinning, –“I’ve been on hundreds of planes, and not one of them has crashed yet!”–

As much as I knew the joke was meant to provoke me, I still replied by elbowing him gently, but we both ended up laughing. God, I hadn’t known him long, but I already had it bad for him. I watched his lips as he laughed, and remembered kissing them earlier today, and, casting my mind back a couple more days, remembered how they’d teased me at the hotel. Not only was I looking forward to seeing a new country, but I was also looking forward to getting John alone again at last.

“Seriously, though, darling,” he eventually continued, –“we’ll be fine. Try and think about something else when we take off”–.

That advice seemed practical.

Then he added, –“or someONE,”– in deeper, quieter tones, right in my ear. Clearly he had similar intentions to me.

But, he was right - the takeoff was bumpy and that freaked me out at first, but we made it up into the sky, and all was well. The view from my window was breathtaking. Then, after all the problems and traumas I’d had thrown at me this morning, I started to feel utterly exhausted, and ended up passed out with my head on John’s lap, after he so kindly lifted up the armrests for me.