Wistful Exultation

Thick ropes of silver chain and white ribbon hung over his black striped v-neck and down to the top of his brazenly white skinny jeans. A faint smile was painted on his face under a splash of freckles while bleached white toss of hair crowned his head. That, in two sentences is how Ryan Gray looked when he came to pick me up at the airport.

“Welcome home” he said, and before I knew it, I was rushing past the feet between us, to be caught in his warm embrace and swung round.

I buried my face in his neck and breathed in that familiar smell I had missed so much and he sweetly kissed my hair. I looked up towards his face and saw a pink flush creep up his cheeks.  

“Ha-ha you missed me” I teased.
“Did not” he nonchalantly retorted before swiftly planting a kiss on my lips.

It was my turn to blush, and blush I did, until my face was a feverish red. Out of the most unexpected things he could have done. After all this time. And I was worried that he forgot…

Ryan keeled over, and laughed at my face. I punched him. “sorry,sorry… hahahaha.. No really! I didn’t think you would turn that red” he managed to say

I was about to start an argument, and I had a witty comeback up my sleeve when I noticed my bags strewn across the floor of the airport. In my rush to get over to him I must have dropped a few.

“My bags!” I yelled as I hurried to retrieve them, Ryan right behind me. I dropped to pick the first bag and he ran ahead to gather the ones the furthest away. Gosh why did I have to have so many bags?

On bended knee I heard the murmurs and whispers, and saw the looks of the crowd that thrummed around us. I immediately felt self-consensus and hated myself for being so ditsy.

 In my web of insecurities that suddenly came I hardly noticed Ryan tugging at my arm, having already picked all my bags while I only lingered at the second. He must be immune to all the eyes that looked.

But abruptly I felt so stupid, how silly Ryan must have looked picking my bags up and he seemed unaffected by the whispering crowd, and how I had felt only moments before and was reduced to helplessly sitting on the airport floor. I hope Ryan never finds out how narcissistic I am.

He grabbed my hand and with the other pulled my luggage, as I did the same, and he led me to the exit leaving my insecurities behind. Both of us had smiles plastered on our face unable to hide our delight that I was finally home.

 The rest of the night passed in a blur as we left the airport and into a taxi; where we fell into a half sleep on the back seat leaning on each other, motionless and silent, staring blankly out the window to the passing lights that made New York City.

The End

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