A Beautiful Forever(3)

“Why would I mind?” I ask him flatly. “It’s not like I own the plane.”

He gives me what I think might be his most dashing smile, but he still looks unsure of me. “I’m Elliot by the way,” he tells me, extending his hand to shake mine.

My eyes travel down to his outstretched arm. I don’t want to take it. When I look up at his expectant face, his eyes narrow slightly, but he keeps his hand stretched out towards me stubbornly.





Elliot


“I won’t bite,” I tell her, still holding out my hand, watching her brow furrow as she wars with something in her mind.

Hesitantly, she says, “Paige,” as she slips her hand into mine and gives me a light squeeze before quickly taking her hand back and looking past me, like she really wishes I’d piss off.

I smile at her, enjoying the lingering feel of her touch on my hand. This is the first girl I have spoken to in a long time that isn’t giggling and flicking her hair the moment I make eye contact. I like it.

I try to make small talk with her for a while, but she’s not buying it. “Well, Paige,” I venture, “as much as I enjoy holding a one-sided conversation with you. We can’t really do this for the entire rest of the flight. So my question is - what are we going to do about Connie McSnores-a-lot back there?”

A tiny smile pulls at the corner of her mouth but it doesn’t turn into anything more than that, surprisingly I feel disappointed. I want her to smile at me again like she did when we were seated before.

“Is her name really Connie?” she asks, completely serious.

I chuckle and shake my head slightly. “I have no idea. I just made it up – same as the McSnores-a-lot part. As appropriate as it is – that’s not her name either,” I tell her as seriously as I can.

Suddenly, she’s laughing. Her hand flies up and covers her mouth. She’s trying to keep quiet, but her shoulders are shaking and small sounds are escaping as she gasps for breath.

She holds out her hand and tries to speak. “Man, I am obviously heading to delirium from a lack of sleep as well. I just can’t stop thinking how funny it would be if that really was her name.” She shakes her head from side to side, laughing all over again as she leans back up against the side of the plane. I’m just standing here with this huge grin on my face watching her eyes sparkle from tears of laughter.

“Oh God,” she says, clutching her stomach. “It’s not even that funny.”

“You got a hold of yourself now?” I ask her as she endeavors to stay calm.

Nodding, she wipes her eyes and stands up straight again, taking a deep breath and attempting to look serious. “Maybe we could ask to move seats. I noticed a couple of empty rows in the middle aisle.”

“Alright, leave it to me. I’ll go and find a flight attendant,” I tell her.

Immediately her eyebrows shoot up as she eyes me off, not looking so amused now. I wonder what I’ve done wrong as I walk towards the front of the plane to find someone who can help us.





Paige


I feel like rolling my eyes so hard that they do a full 360 loop. This Elliot guy is so aware of how good looking he is, that he thinks he can snap his fingers and get whatever he wants. What makes him so sure that a girl who looks like a slightly deranged witch couldn’t get us new seats? I’m not entirely without charm.

I pull a hair elastic out of my pocket and quickly twist my mess of hair into a bun before I hurry to catch up to him, feeling like I have something to prove now.

However, I’m too late. I can see him already talking to a flight attendant as I get closer. She’s all smiles and coy gestures as she talks to him agreeably.

He turns as I approach and winks at me, and I swear my stomach starts doing cartwheels in response. “Paige,” he smiles. “Erin here, is going to see if she can get us some new seats.”

Nodding my head, I watch Erin, the perky flight attendant, as she flicks her gaze at me but continues to smile only at him. I actually do roll my eyes this time as I cross my arms and walk back towards my original seat, cursing my body for having any sort of response towards him. I decide to just plonk down in Elliot’s seat instead of climbing over Connie McSnores-a-lot, while I wait to find out where we’re going to be sitting.

As I wait, I quietly fume, I don’t know why I’m so mad, this guy is no one to me, but I don’t like the way my body is trying to respond to him, and I don’t like this whole – ‘let the man sort it out’ thing that just happened. I’ve taken care of myself without a single bit of help from a man for eight years now. I could have sorted my own seat out.





Elliot


The flight attendant leaves me to go and work out where she can move Paige and I to. When turn around, I’m expecting Paige to still be behind me but see that she has walked away and is sitting on my seat, staring at the shuttered window of the plane with her arms crossed and her face stern.

I don’t know if she’s always like this, or if I’ve done something. One moment I have her laughing and the next she seems annoyed with me. I don’t even know why I care, but as I approach her, I can’t help but wish she would look at me and smile again.

She has pulled her hair up in a tight bun, and her profile looks sophisticated with her hair like that. Kind of like a ballerina performing, the elegance and face that show little more than calm control.

Connie is still rumbling away in the next seat, her mouth wide open as she lays back. Due to some sort of miracle, the people in front and behind her are managing to sleep, perhaps they thought to bring sleeping pills too.

As I make my way down the aisle towards Paige, her head turns, and she tilts it slightly in question as she watches me approach.

“The flight attendant is going to find out where she can move us to,” I say, standing in the aisle since there’s no easy place for me to sit.

Her only answer is a nod as she looks me over, watching me as I move to open the overhead locker and take my carry-on luggage out. I continue to feel her eyes on me as I wrestle my back pack out of the confined space. Slinging it over my shoulder, before I look down at her, trying to return a gaze with the same intensity she’s giving me.





Paige


I’m just watching him. He’s very graceful in his movements considering his size. I like that he is so tall and broad but doesn’t seem to take up all the space around him. Most guys I've met that are as muscular as him are all stiff and seem to have trouble with their natural movement. But this Elliot guy carries his bulk as if it was always meant to be there.

He gets his back pack out of the overhead locker and then looks at me, so I lock my eyes with his, waiting for him to say something. Maybe a full minute passes before he points upward. “Do you want me to get your stuff too?” he asks.

Shaking my head I start to get up. “I’ll get it myself,” I tell him.

He moves out of my way and looks down at the floor, so I hesitate. He’s trying to be nice to me, and I keep rebuffing him. I pause with my hands reached into the locker and look at him until his eyes meet mine. “Thank you though,” I say, “for the offer… it was very kind of you.”

He gives me a tight smile as the flight attendant comes up behind him and touches his arm to get his attention, her voice is all breathy while she’s telling him that she has new seats for us.

She gets us settled in a middle row of five empty seats, telling Elliot especially, that if we need anything else, she’d be only too happy to help.

I smile brightly at her and tell her how appreciative we are for her help. She looks between Elliot and I, like she thinks something’s going on between us. I don’t know why I did that, but I keep on smiling, behaving like the other half of a happy couple until she goes away.





Elliot


The second Erin walks away, Paige moves one seat over. “I hope you don’t mind,” she says. “You’re just very broad, and I thought you might like the extra space to stretch out.”

“Thanks,” I smile at her gratefully. She’s right; it is nice to have a bit more space in these small seats. I’m pretty good at keeping to my own spot, but it’s better when I can lean into the space between us and angle my legs more comfortably.

She's lifted the arm rests and is now sitting two seats away from me with her legs on the seats between us, and her head leaned to the side against the headrest.

Looking at me with heavy-lidded eyes, she seems to be struggling to hold them up. “Why are you going to London?” she asks me.

I lean my own head back and look over at her, deliberating over my answer. Something about this situation makes me think, f*ck it, so I tell the truth. “Because I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Her eyebrows move closer together as she considers my words, “Who did you used to be?”