Come fly with me
Come fly with me (standalone)
Fly with me
Airplanes, airplanes, airplanes. I have never been fond of those things. They scare the living shit out of me, to be honest. But still, here I am, standing in line to board on one of those giant, steel birds. If it wasn't for my mom who got severely sick a few days ago, I wouldn't be here. But it’s an emergency, so I’ll have to put my fears aside and just get on the fucking plane. Luckily for me, Brendon’s here, holding my hand and assuring me that everything is going to be fine. I try to listen to his comforting words, but somewhere in my head, there’s this little voice that keeps on asking ‘What if?’. What if there’s a terrorist on this flight that will make the airplane crash? What if we run out of fuel and crash down? What if both the pilots get too sick to control the plane? We’ll all die. I don’t want to die. I’m only 20 years old and that’s too young to die.
My hands are sweaty and I tighten my grip on Brendon’s hand as the queue in front of us is getting shorter and shorter. “Relax, Ryan,” he says in a soothing voice, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles of my hand. “Everything is going to be fine,” he adds and lets go of my hand for a few seconds to push his glasses, that had slid down a bit, further up his nose again.
“Passport and boarding ticket, please,” the man behind the tiny desk asks. Brendon gives him both items and sends him a friendly smile. When the man gives Brendon’s ticket and passport back, anxiety strikes me. “Bren, I’m scared,” I whisper, sending him a pleading look. “I don’t want to get on that plane,” I say, my voice slightly quivering. “Sir, please show me your passport and boarding ticket,” the man behind the desk tells me. Brendon runs his hand up and down my back in a soothing way, trying to calm me down. “Come on, Ryan,” he whispers and presses a small kiss against my cheek. “I’ll be with you the entire time on that plane. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he speaks, looking me straight into the eye. Yeah, right, like he knows how to fly and land an airplane when both pilots die. The sympathy and love in his eyes, make me give in, though. I nod and give the man my passport and ticket. He looks at both for a few seconds and then gives them back to me. “Have a pleasant flight,” he smiles.
Brendon grabs my hand again and drags me through the passage that connects the terminal with the airplane. “Brendon… I really don’t think I can do this,” I whine. Yes, I am aware that I’m whining, but I have the right to whine. I’m scared shitless and have the feeling I’m going to die within the next two hours. “Ry,” Brendon sighs and stops walking. “I promise that everything is going to be just fine. Nothing bad will happen, okay?” he says and then, before I can say something back, he kisses me full on the lips, which, I’m sure of, is earning us some odd looks. Why does he always know what to do and say when I’m like this? “I guess you’re right,” I sigh after breaking the kiss, but I’m not entirely convinced, though.
Brendon and I start walking again and when we arrive at the end of the corridor, we’re greeted by two stewardesses. “Good afternoon, welcome to this flight to Las Vegas,” one of them greets. “Thank you,” Brendon smiles and steps on the plane. I’m still standing on the edge of the corridor, staring down at my feet. “Ryan, please get on the plane,” Brendon says, tugging at my hand. I shake my head. “I’m scared,” I tell him for the millionth time that day. He rolls his eyes and to my biggest surprise, he picks me up. “If you don’t get on it yourself, I’ll just carry you on it,” he grins. “He’s a bit scared,” he tells the stewardesses when they both cock their eyebrows at us. “A little scared?” I squeak loudly. “I’m terrified! And can you blame me? We’re all going to die on this plane as the engine stops working after a bird accidentally flies into it!”
“Ryan, please calm down, you’re scaring other people. Nothing will happen,” Brendon tells me, putting me down on one of the dark blue seats. Mmm… comfy. But comfy enough to die in? I didn’t think so. Brendon sits down next to me and lays an arm around my shoulder. He kisses my cheek and smiles. “There’s really nothing to be so scared about,” he starts. “There’s a bigger chance that you get hit by a car when you cross the street than to die in an airplane crash,” he continues and I lay my head down on his lap. “Really?” I ask with a small voice. He nods, stroking my hair. “Really, so unless you’re afraid of crossing the street, you shouldn’t be afraid of this either,” he tells me and bends down to place a kiss in my hair.
I know that he’s got a point in everything he’s saying, but I still can’t help feeling scared. I can’t stop thinking ‘what if this is one out of the so many airplanes that crashes down?’ There’s always a possibility. I keep my head rested on Brendon’s lap for another while. It makes me feel safer. But then one of the stewardesses tells us to fasten our seatbelts and sit upright, because we’re about to take off. I let out a shaky sigh and sit up, buckling my seatbelt. I wish I could’ve stayed with my head on Brendon’s lap. The closeness made me feel a tiny tad better. Brendon entangles our fingers and lets our hands rest on his knee. “Just close your eyes and relax,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles of my hand. I close my eyes for a few seconds and when I open them again, I notice that the airplane is slowly moving. I try to shift closer to Brendon, but the seatbelt won’t let me.
I’m frightened to death right now. The airplane is moving and about to take off. I take short, shaky breaths and a small tear of fear escapes from the corner of my eye. I do not want to die. Brendon notices that I’m about to go hysterical and he unbuckles his seatbelt. He shifts closer to me and wraps both his arms around my body, holding me protectively. “Everything is going to be fine,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m right here, you don’t have to be scared,” he says and starts cradling me. His comforting words and gestures calm me down and my breath goes back to normal. Ten minutes later, he lets go of me and kisses my forehead. “Are you okay?” he asks and I nod in response, keeping my eyes screwed shut.
“Open your eyes, Ry,” Brendon tells me. I open my eyes a little bit and look out of the tiny window. We’re flying. Oh my God, we made it to the air without crashing, that’s already a positive thing. Not that I’m no longer scared. Hell no. We still got a little bit less than two hours in the air ahead of us.
“You can unbuckle your seatbelt again,” Brendon speaks up, pointing at the seatbelt sign above our heads, that’s no longer flickering. I crack a small smile and quickly unfasten my seatbelt. I lay my head back down on Brendon’s lap, nuzzling my nose against his belly. He lets out a soft giggle and starts stroking my hair again. His movements are soothing and relaxing. Before I know, I’m drifting off to sleep, escaping to my safe dream world.
I wake up again as Brendon is gently shaking me. “We’re going to land,” he announces, pushing me into a sitting position. “Really?” I ask, feeling anxious and relieved at the same time. Relieved because we made it until now, but anxious because we still have the landing ahead of us. “Please hold me again,” I plead, looking at Brendon with begging eyes. He nods and unfastens his seatbelt again. I hope none of the stewardesses will notice. I really need Brendon to do this right now, so fuck the rules.
Brendon wraps his arms around me and I quickly screw my eyes shut as I notice the runway is getting closer and closer. After a few minutes, I feel a rather hard jolt and I let out a loud, frightened screech. There must be something wrong. We’re going to crash. “Relax, Ry,” Brendon whispers, rubbing my back with his hand. “That was just the landing gear making contact with the runway. Nothing bad happened. We’re slowing down now,” he explains, still holding me close.
I open one eye and quickly glance outside. Brendon’s right. The airplane is driving over the runway and slowing down. I really can’t believe we really made it without crashing. It’s a miracle. “I told you we’d be fine,” Brendon smiles. I smile too and press a quick kiss against his lips. “Thanks,” I mutter, leaning my forehead against his. Without Brendon, I wouldn’t have gotten on the airplane. And if I somehow did, I would’ve gone insane. “Everything for you, Ry,” he says, pecking my lips. “I love you,” he adds. “I love you too,” I beam, staring straight into his eyes.
Airplanes, airplanes, airplanes. I have never been fond of those things. They scare the living shit out of me, to be honest. But still, here I am, standing in line to board on one of those giant, steel birds. If it wasn't for my mom who got severely sick a few days ago, I wouldn't be here. But it’s an emergency, so I’ll have to put my fears aside and just get on the fucking plane. Luckily for me, Brendon’s here, holding my hand and assuring me that everything is going to be fine. I try to listen to his comforting words, but somewhere in my head, there’s this little voice that keeps on asking ‘What if?’. What if there’s a terrorist on this flight that will make the airplane crash? What if we run out of fuel and crash down? What if both the pilots get too sick to control the plane? We’ll all die. I don’t want to die. I’m only 20 years old and that’s too young to die.
My hands are sweaty and I tighten my grip on Brendon’s hand as the queue in front of us is getting shorter and shorter. “Relax, Ryan,” he says in a soothing voice, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles of my hand. “Everything is going to be fine,” he adds and lets go of my hand for a few seconds to push his glasses, that had slid down a bit, further up his nose again.
“Passport and boarding ticket, please,” the man behind the tiny desk asks. Brendon gives him both items and sends him a friendly smile. When the man gives Brendon’s ticket and passport back, anxiety strikes me. “Bren, I’m scared,” I whisper, sending him a pleading look. “I don’t want to get on that plane,” I say, my voice slightly quivering. “Sir, please show me your passport and boarding ticket,” the man behind the desk tells me. Brendon runs his hand up and down my back in a soothing way, trying to calm me down. “Come on, Ryan,” he whispers and presses a small kiss against my cheek. “I’ll be with you the entire time on that plane. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he speaks, looking me straight into the eye. Yeah, right, like he knows how to fly and land an airplane when both pilots die. The sympathy and love in his eyes, make me give in, though. I nod and give the man my passport and ticket. He looks at both for a few seconds and then gives them back to me. “Have a pleasant flight,” he smiles.
Brendon grabs my hand again and drags me through the passage that connects the terminal with the airplane. “Brendon… I really don’t think I can do this,” I whine. Yes, I am aware that I’m whining, but I have the right to whine. I’m scared shitless and have the feeling I’m going to die within the next two hours. “Ry,” Brendon sighs and stops walking. “I promise that everything is going to be just fine. Nothing bad will happen, okay?” he says and then, before I can say something back, he kisses me full on the lips, which, I’m sure of, is earning us some odd looks. Why does he always know what to do and say when I’m like this? “I guess you’re right,” I sigh after breaking the kiss, but I’m not entirely convinced, though.
Brendon and I start walking again and when we arrive at the end of the corridor, we’re greeted by two stewardesses. “Good afternoon, welcome to this flight to Las Vegas,” one of them greets. “Thank you,” Brendon smiles and steps on the plane. I’m still standing on the edge of the corridor, staring down at my feet. “Ryan, please get on the plane,” Brendon says, tugging at my hand. I shake my head. “I’m scared,” I tell him for the millionth time that day. He rolls his eyes and to my biggest surprise, he picks me up. “If you don’t get on it yourself, I’ll just carry you on it,” he grins. “He’s a bit scared,” he tells the stewardesses when they both cock their eyebrows at us. “A little scared?” I squeak loudly. “I’m terrified! And can you blame me? We’re all going to die on this plane as the engine stops working after a bird accidentally flies into it!”
“Ryan, please calm down, you’re scaring other people. Nothing will happen,” Brendon tells me, putting me down on one of the dark blue seats. Mmm… comfy. But comfy enough to die in? I didn’t think so. Brendon sits down next to me and lays an arm around my shoulder. He kisses my cheek and smiles. “There’s really nothing to be so scared about,” he starts. “There’s a bigger chance that you get hit by a car when you cross the street than to die in an airplane crash,” he continues and I lay my head down on his lap. “Really?” I ask with a small voice. He nods, stroking my hair. “Really, so unless you’re afraid of crossing the street, you shouldn’t be afraid of this either,” he tells me and bends down to place a kiss in my hair.
I know that he’s got a point in everything he’s saying, but I still can’t help feeling scared. I can’t stop thinking ‘what if this is one out of the so many airplanes that crashes down?’ There’s always a possibility. I keep my head rested on Brendon’s lap for another while. It makes me feel safer. But then one of the stewardesses tells us to fasten our seatbelts and sit upright, because we’re about to take off. I let out a shaky sigh and sit up, buckling my seatbelt. I wish I could’ve stayed with my head on Brendon’s lap. The closeness made me feel a tiny tad better. Brendon entangles our fingers and lets our hands rest on his knee. “Just close your eyes and relax,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles of my hand. I close my eyes for a few seconds and when I open them again, I notice that the airplane is slowly moving. I try to shift closer to Brendon, but the seatbelt won’t let me.
I’m frightened to death right now. The airplane is moving and about to take off. I take short, shaky breaths and a small tear of fear escapes from the corner of my eye. I do not want to die. Brendon notices that I’m about to go hysterical and he unbuckles his seatbelt. He shifts closer to me and wraps both his arms around my body, holding me protectively. “Everything is going to be fine,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m right here, you don’t have to be scared,” he says and starts cradling me. His comforting words and gestures calm me down and my breath goes back to normal. Ten minutes later, he lets go of me and kisses my forehead. “Are you okay?” he asks and I nod in response, keeping my eyes screwed shut.
“Open your eyes, Ry,” Brendon tells me. I open my eyes a little bit and look out of the tiny window. We’re flying. Oh my God, we made it to the air without crashing, that’s already a positive thing. Not that I’m no longer scared. Hell no. We still got a little bit less than two hours in the air ahead of us.
“You can unbuckle your seatbelt again,” Brendon speaks up, pointing at the seatbelt sign above our heads, that’s no longer flickering. I crack a small smile and quickly unfasten my seatbelt. I lay my head back down on Brendon’s lap, nuzzling my nose against his belly. He lets out a soft giggle and starts stroking my hair again. His movements are soothing and relaxing. Before I know, I’m drifting off to sleep, escaping to my safe dream world.
I wake up again as Brendon is gently shaking me. “We’re going to land,” he announces, pushing me into a sitting position. “Really?” I ask, feeling anxious and relieved at the same time. Relieved because we made it until now, but anxious because we still have the landing ahead of us. “Please hold me again,” I plead, looking at Brendon with begging eyes. He nods and unfastens his seatbelt again. I hope none of the stewardesses will notice. I really need Brendon to do this right now, so fuck the rules.
Brendon wraps his arms around me and I quickly screw my eyes shut as I notice the runway is getting closer and closer. After a few minutes, I feel a rather hard jolt and I let out a loud, frightened screech. There must be something wrong. We’re going to crash. “Relax, Ry,” Brendon whispers, rubbing my back with his hand. “That was just the landing gear making contact with the runway. Nothing bad happened. We’re slowing down now,” he explains, still holding me close.
I open one eye and quickly glance outside. Brendon’s right. The airplane is driving over the runway and slowing down. I really can’t believe we really made it without crashing. It’s a miracle. “I told you we’d be fine,” Brendon smiles. I smile too and press a quick kiss against his lips. “Thanks,” I mutter, leaning my forehead against his. Without Brendon, I wouldn’t have gotten on the airplane. And if I somehow did, I would’ve gone insane. “Everything for you, Ry,” he says, pecking my lips. “I love you,” he adds. “I love you too,” I beam, staring straight into his eyes.