(read other parts of this whole series first; modern incomplete fairytales, 1-5)
pt5, the airport.
it’s been a month and she’s leaving again even though she promised not to. she’s at the airport and he’s at the library she worked at. she’s trying not to miss the flight and he’s trying to get a cab. the fate’s in their favour, her flight gets delayed and he gets a cab. he sees her through the pale windows of the airport. she might be far but he could always tell if it was her. there was just something about her, maybe it was the way she carried herself or maybe it was her aura that just seemed to drive you in. he tried to get in but the guards don’t understand the hidden meaning of romanticism or maybe they’re just trying to save us. but he cant let her go, not again. and so he runs, knocks down some passengers and ignores the shouts of the guards. skips some stair and trips on air. but, he makes it. alarmed by the sudden shouts, she looks around. and when her eyes land on him, she isn’t even surprised. instead, she smiles. maybe because a part of her knew he’d come. she gets up, she takes her time and dusts away the small cookie crumbs from her pants. and walks over to him, and god does she do it slow. she doesnt remove eye contact, either. and when she reaches him, for a minute, they don’t say anything. she runs a hand down his cheek and lets out a small laugh, and whispers, “oh, you idiot, go home.” He leans into her hands and tells her to shut up. Then removes her hands from his face and pulls her close, and tells her everything. he never stopped loving her and there never was any one else for him. there are cheesy moments, there are confessions, there are promises, and there is hope. the angry guards come then but maybe they finally realised the meaning of romanticism so they stop, cross their arms and stare. the people around whisper, some smile and some grimace but all is into oblivion and nothing matters. it was dark now and they were both smiling. he always loved the stars and she the colours, so together they paint the night sky maybe in different shades making it special, making it beautiful, something no one had ever seen; a happy ending to their always incomplete fairytale. but maybe this time, this isn’t the end. and maybe, there are no ends because after all, in the end, they are just fullstops, arent they?
ps. pun intended.