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The airport

“Do you have everything, sweetheart?” my father asks as I emerge in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’ve checked at least ten times.” I break into a faint smile.

“Our taxi shall be here in half an hour.” He glances over at the clock hung on the kitchen wall.

It’s five to seven and Will still hasn’t arrived. As I start to think that he either overslept or simply decided to stay home, the sound of knocking reaches my ears. I usher to open the door.

“Hi,” Will says, standing at the threshold, his lips curved into a feeble smile.

He looks fresh as ever. His dark hair is nicely dishevelled, his body radiates stress but also excitement of seeing me. He's clad in grey, causal trousers, a pair of classic Vans and a coal-coloured T-shirt.

“Hi,” I murmur, letting him in.

He sheepishly walks inside, nodding his head at my parents.

“Oh, good morning,” my mother says, scurrying over to give him a hug.

My father appears by his side moments later to shake hands.

“You didn’t mention that Will is coming with us,” my dad says, but his voice lacks disapproval.

“He’s actually going to drive me to the airport. I’m sorry that I haven’t said anything earlier but we established it last night,” I murmur apologetically.

“As long as you get there on time it’s not a problem,” my father responds, shooting us a warm smile.

“I promise not to be late,” Will replies, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He seems really uncomfortable, probably thinking that my parents know about the whole thing that happened between us, even though I’ve never told them.

“Anyone fancy a hot drink before we leave?” my mother asks, and all of us agree with a nod of our heads.

~~~~~~~~~~
 
At twenty past seven my parents get into the taxi. Will puts my suitcase into the boot of his car. We then jump inside his vehicle and fasten our seat belts.

“Excited?” he asks me, referring to my holidays, trying to break the silence.

“I am, yeah,” I respond quietly, watching him pull out onto the road and follow the taxi.

“Are you still going to bring me a souvenir back?” he fires with another question.

I involuntarily smile. “Do you still want one?”

“I mean, why not?” He glances over at me, his eyes first light up with merriment but then they sadden and retrieve to the road.

“I’ll get one then,” I say quietly, letting my words dissolve into the silence that becomes loud between us.

And that’s what the rest of our forty-minute drive to the airport looks like.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

When we eventually arrive, it’s eight o’clock, which means that we still have got around two and a half hours worth of waiting for the departure, maybe an hour and a half until we’ll have to go through the security check. Surprisingly, we got here before my parents did because Will sped up, probably feeling uncomfortable as we weren’t talking.

“I’ll get your suitcase out,” he says, reaching for the handle to open the door of his car.

“Wait,” I gush, my throat tightens as he diverts his black eyes to me. “I thought about everything . . .”

“And?” he asks, evidently anxious.

“I still want to give you a chance,” I mutter, my heart thuds in my chest.

Will blinks a couple of times in surprise, but once my words finally sink in, his lips stretch into a wide grin. “Are you serious?” he asks, content.

“Yes, Will, I’m serious.” I roll my eyes, amused by his cheerfulness.

“Oh God.” He sighs, relieved and satisfied, resting his back against the seat, turning his head to me. “I’m so happy that I could kiss you right now,” he mutters, and having realized what he's just said, his face blanches.

“Do it then,” I encourage, causing him to arch his eyebrows. He probably thinks that I’m only joking.

Noticing that I’m not, he timidly leans towards me, his black eyes wander all over my face, searching for any trace of uncertainty. Having found none, Will tentatively cups my face into the softness of his hands, his thumbs caress my cheek bones.

“I still can’t believe it,” he whispers, the light weight of his lips becomes present on mine, his own tender and warm. “I can’t believe that I can kiss you again,” he says quietly, softly.

“Enjoy the last moments of it because the next time you’ll see me–”

“Will be in a month. I know,” he mutters, keeping his face close to mine, his forehead rests against my own. “I’ll be patiently waiting, and when you come back, I’m taking you out on a date,” he states.

I frown, positively surprised. “A date?” I ask, needing reassurance.

“Yes. A date,” he whispers against my lips, his eyes connect to mine. “First step towards a relationship,” he says, and I feel my heart delightfully clench.

He wants to try. He wants to give us a chance. He’s actually considering becoming my boyfriend. I’m at a loss for words.

“I think your parents arrived,” he points out once my phone starts ringing, reluctantly pulling away from me.

I quickly pick it up. “Yeah? Okay, we’re coming,” I mutter to the mouthpiece, shooting Will a faint smile, but my chest starts to slowly become heavy at the thought of soon having to say goodbye for a month.

~~~~~~~~~~

 
“Have a safe journey,” Will says as we reach the point where he can’t go any further with us.

“Thank you,” I murmur, tears involuntarily surface over my eyes.

“Message me when you arrive or call me, whichever you prefer,” he says, his chin trembles.

“I will,” I murmur, letting him wrap his arms around me, his embrace feels warmer than ever before.

“Honey, we need to go,” my mum reminds me softly.

“Okay,” I respond in a sad voice, glancing up at Will. “I’ll see you in a month,” I murmur, pulling away from him.

“Davina, wait,” he says in a hurry, stopping me right before I walk off to the security line. He then leans down and kisses me deeply, his arm circles its way around my waist, the fingers of his other hand twist into my hair. “I love you,” he whispers against my lips, his voice turns unsteady due to this meaningful confession. “Go,” he orders, winking at me, patting my back to rush me, as if he didn’t want to find out whether I’d say it back.

“I’ll miss you,” I mutter hastily, then wave my hand as I join my parents. My whole world comes back to life, as if it was a garden, and it blossoms with flowers of happiness and serenity.
And all of it because he loves me. Will Reyman loves me.

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