I Don't Want It, I Just Need It.

“D’ye think that, maybe, ye shoulda done this at ‘ome?”

I rolled my eyes and dug deeper into my suitcase.

Even with my bag almost empty; half of my clothes that I’d so lovingly washed, folded and packed neatly just hours ago, strewn around me. Scattered across the parking lot. I was no closer to finding my passport. I was, however, incredibly close to hitting Oliver Sykes upside the head.

“Do you think that, maybe, you could help?” I mimicked. Smiling curtly as he drug himself from the hood of the van where he’d been resting, and threw his half finished cigarette to the ground. Grabbing my gym bag from the floor without a word.

“You might not wanna….” I felt the blush rushing to my cheeks as he pulled out a bundle of brightly coloured lace. “…look in there” My voice had fallen to a whisper.

The smirk tugging at his lips, did nothing to help my embarrassment,. The loud chuckle that escaped them as I abruptly snatched the bag from his hands, did nothing to calm my obscenely fast heartbeat. “’S no need t’ be embarrassed Vee” He teased, returning to slump against the hood of the van. His arms folded across his chest, his head tilted back as to peer down his nose at me. “I know ye a sexual…”

“We need to find my passport Oliver” I interrupted sternly, turning to face the doors of Leeds Bradford Airport. Glancing at the time on the huge clock residing in the centre. We’d been late waking up thanks to Thomas’ dodgy alarm, Matt had driven at snails pace and insisted on regular ‘pit stops’ all the way here, and we were already ten minutes past the check-in deadline “If we miss the plane were…”

“We won’ miss the plane Vee”

My heart stopped as he pressed himself against my back, letting his chin drop to my shoulder, and an arm loop loosely around my waist. My skin tingled at his hot breath on my neck, the tracing of his fingertips at my hips. I jumped a little as he slapped his hand
against my ass, his fingers creeping into my back pocket.

“Ye passports ‘ere”

I was breathless as he pulled away. My mouth dry and my hands shaking as he waved my passport in the air.I swore he heard me gulp down the lump in my throat. I was pretty sure he could see me trembling.

Oliver Scott Sykes knew Verity Ann Palmer inside out

A nod was all I could muster as he thrust the burgundy book into my hand and dove towards his bags that were thrown across the back seat of the van. The slam of the sliding door startled me from my daydream, and before I knew it he was crouched to the floor chucking my clothes back into my suitcase.

“Oliverrrrr” I whined, “Would you go careful, some of that stuffs…”

“I told Tom t’ ‘old them up at check-in. But ‘e can’ hold ‘em forever “ He interrupted. Ignoring my gasp as he shoved my teal, silk skirt into my bag and pulled the zip shut violently. My eyes watered as I swore I heard a rip.

“Oli, please, would you…”

“I ‘ope ye savin’ these for someone special” He mumbled, fetching my gym bag from my feet and slinging it over his shoulder. “Not wastin’ em on some loser French ‘garcon’”

&&

I smiled, relieved, as Curtis collapsed into the seat next to me. A stack of magazines clutched in his arms, and a carrier bag crammed with snacks, dangling from his pinky finger. “You do know this isn’t long haul?” I giggled, pulling at the corner of the bag and peering inside. “Paris is just…”

“A ‘op, skip an a jump away” He grinned. “I know, Ol said. But ‘m prepared. If lost ‘appens Vee, ye gonna cling t’…”

“A copy of Front magazine and a bag of Smarties?” I smirked, ignoring the swift jab in my side from his elbow.

“Laugh it up Palmer” He sighed, “Laugh it up”

The broad smile spreading across my lips was genuine.

Curtis Ward was one in a million. And I hadn’t been lucky enough to meet the four in four million that lived in Los Angeles. He’d been a godsend four years ago, and now, as we sat waiting to depart for Paris, he was a godsend once again. I doubted my heart would make the short journey in tact, had I been sitting next to Oliver. And Curtis had known that, without even having to ask.

“Did you know that Oliver was gonna take me to Paris…” I watched Curtis steal a sideward glance at me, his lips quiver into an uneasy smile. I was pretty certain that had the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign not just become illuminated, and had we not been heading slowly toward the runway. He would’ve bolted down the aisle. “…the first time?”

He shrugged unconvincingly, and shuffled the magazines in his lap. I could tell from the twitching of his eyebrows that he was thinking of the right words. The way in which he opened his mouth, and turned toward me to speak. Only to fix his eyes to the back of the seat in front and clamp his lips together seconds later.

I sighed loudly and threw my head back against the headrest. I’d asked everyone…everyone since Lee spilt the beans at ‘Tattoodles’ opening. But I was yet to receive an answer, at all.

Thomas had been cryptic, Jake had used Alice’ bedtime as an excuse and Lee, had forgotten what he’d said five minutes later, when I returned to the party.

“’E wan’ed t’apologise” I barely heard Curtis he was so quiet, and the increasing drone of the engines firing up wasn’t helping either. “’E thought that maybe if ‘e took ye to Paris, ye wouldn’ ‘old it against ‘im that ye stayed”

I felt the lump rising in my throat rapidly.

“’E hated that ‘e kept ye back. ‘e hated that ye…”

“But I left” I choked, “Curtis I left him, I went to…”

“’E didn’ know ye was gonna do that though, did ‘e”

I squeezed my eyes shut, tight, as hot tears flooded to their corners. I heard Curtis’ voice, muffled, just a breath from my ear. But I couldn’t understand his words. Because of the sudden roar of the engines as we surged down the runway, or through fear of what he was saying. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know either.

I’d had this feeling before.

As the speed of the airplane increased, as the pace of my heart increased. As we sped away from the airport, as I sped away from what was familiar.

I’d been here before.

The tears that were threatening to fall, had fallen four years previous. The doubt as to where I was heading, the anxiety at living the unknown was just as vivid now as it had been then. There was just one difference.

One big difference…

He was two rows ahead, one seat to the right.