One Shots

The Plane Ride - Nash Grier Imagine for Angie

*from my Tumblr*

www.graceelizabeththefab.tumblr.com

Nash and Angie

You hated airports. So much. But you reluctantly rolled your blue polka dot suitcase to the baggage claim so you could get to the terminal for flight 417 to Dallas on time. You were visiting your dad for winter break and had to fly on a two and a half hour flight from your home to your dad’s. Not that you didn’t like your dad, you loved him, but the airport traffic and the stress of getting to your flight on time was just too overwhelming to have to deal with constantly.

Finally arriving at the correct gate, you plopped down into one of the black leather chairs, exhausted from having to wake up so early. You pulled out of your brown suede backpack your phone and checked your Instagram and Tumblr. Not too much new, just some news on 5 Seconds of Summer and One Direction, the usual. You took a sip of the smoothie you’d bought a couple minutes before and sighed a little as the worker at the gate desk called for the first class passengers to board the plane.

You had a seat in economy. Business class. The plebians. (props to you if you know what that’s from) You ran a hand through your hair and took another sip of your smoothie until they finally called your ticket. You shoved your phone into your pocket and pulled yourself out of the chair and waited in line to board. The worker at the desk didn’t seem too happy to be up this early either. You secretly rolled your eyes as she scanned your boarding pass and glared at you when she handed it back. Taking a deep breath, you headed into the tunnel to the plane. The flight attendants greeted you happily at the door and the passengers kept to themselves as you made your way down the aisle to the back.

“39… 40… 41…” you said, glancing back down at your boarding pass and back up at the row signs. You gave a huff of relief when you saw row 43, plopping down in the window seat, which you specifically bought ahead of time. You could not stand sitting in the middle. You pushed your backpack until the seat in front of you and pulled out a copy of some free magazine that was sitting in the window of a shop in the airport. You aimlessly flipped through the pages, sipping at your smoothie until someone cleared their breath to your left.

“Hi,” you said before looking up.

“Hey. I guess we’ll be sitting next to you,” a deep teenage boy’s voice said. Your eyes made their way up to his – which were big blue and beautiful. He gave you a warm smile before climbing into the middle seat. He too placed his backpack on the floor and pulled out a phone. The other boy had dark brown hair that he had spiked up. He grinned at you when you waved.

The first boy wore a blue T shirt that showed off his arm muscles perfectly and a pair of khaki pants with some moccasins on his feet. His hair was neatly combed to the side and you couldn’t help staring at him. He was absolutely gorgeous. You head began to tilt forward so you could see him more clearly until he looked up, smirking.

“Is there something on my face? Because you,” he said with a grin towards me, “can’t take your eyes off of their sexy face,” he said jokingly, giving a flourish of his arm. You giggled, your face flushing red as you shook your head.

“No, no,” you said, trying to cover up your staring.

“It’s okay, really. You’re beautiful,” he said in all seriousness. You smiled, mumbling thank you. You diverted your attention back to the magazine in your hand. You flipped to another page, where there was news from last week’s Good Morning America show. You scrunched your eyebrows together and bent you head down to get a better look at the picture.

It was the guy sitting next to you. He looked exactly the same, ocean blue eyes and all. Your head snapped back and forth between the boy next to you and the magazine page.

“Whatcha looking at?” the boy said, moving his head closer to yours to see the page of the magazine.

“Uh… you… are you?”  you stuttered, pointing to the page. He chuckled to himself, looking down at his lap.

“Yea… that’s me. I’m Nash,” he said.

“Angie,” you told him.

“But don’t believe everything you read about me… people like to make my life seem so much more interesting than it actually is.

“Well, you can expect that,” you said. His hand grazed over yours. Your eyes didn’t break contact though.

“I’d like for you to learn about me in a better way… like how I’d like to learn about you. Wanna go out sometime?” he asked, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Yea… I’d like that.”

The boy next to Nash nudged him saying, “you got a keeper.”

You blushed. For the next two hours, you and Nash talked quietly, never letting go of each other’s’ hands.