Prompt | Meet at an Airport | Part 1
“What the fuck, man?” You spit out towards the stranger that just bumped into your shoulder. It felt more purposeful over anything else honestly. The steaming hot cup of coffee that you had just picked up was spilled all down your clothes and over the floor in small brown puddles. Your skin stings where it soaked into your shirt.
“Excuse me?” He laughs, scoffing. His deep, gravelly voice booms into your bones with an accusatory threatening tone after his shoulder accidentally catches your own in the bustling airport. You look over at him, his eyes darkly filled with anger.
“Why don’t you watch what you’re doing?” You question him, hatred running in your veins and out of your mouth like it should be natural, but it isn’t. You’ve just had a really terrible day that just keeps going from bad to worse with each task you decide to try and take on. At this point, you’re running late for your flight already.
“How about you watch where you’re going and maybe you wouldn’t end up with coffee all over your clothes in an airport.” The man pointedly says back as he gives you a good once over.
“Fine, you provide a good point.” You give up and head off towards the bathroom to look for paper towels. Moments later you hear someone huffing behind you as you hear the wheels of their suitcase hitting the floor as the pace picks up. You realize once he catches up that it’s the guy that spilled coffee all over you. “Can I help you with something?” You grumble, eager to get away and take care of this mess before you miss your flight for the second time.
“No, I just wanted to apologize…you know, for how things started off with us.” He says casually to you, but his eyes do look as if he’s giving you a genuine apology.
“Thank you, I apologize, too. It seems we got off on the wrong foot. Safe travels.” You say, giving him a half-smile before continuing on towards the bathroom. He is still following you by the time you get in to the bathroom to try and rub out some of the stain.
“Where are you traveling to?” He questions, watching you intently as you try and now dab the paper towels to your clothes to dry them before looking over at him, your face unreadable.
“I honestly don’t know.” You mutter, looking down at your ticket. “To…Belize apparently. I wanted a weekend trip and had the travel agent just pick a place for me for a few days. I’m just now seeing it. I had no other intention to look until you mentioned it. Why do you want to know anyway? And why are we still talking?” You smirk defensively, heading back out of the door to where you are going to clean up the spill.
You begin to feverishly wipe over the coffee on the ground so that you can hurry for the flight, but it’s taking an extensive amount of time. Well, at least it feels that way.
You feel a warm, soft hand cover yours and you look up to the man who is squatting in front of you. God, could you rip into that if you weren’t already late and he didn’t ruin your clothes.
“Let me get it for you, you get going for your flight. I have plenty of time.” The mysterious man says as he watches you staring at him in disbelief.
“Wait, you’re serious?” You are taken aback. You treated him like shit and yet he still repays you with nothing but kindness. He nods his head.
“Yeah, go on.” He softly says, his hand overlaps yours on the paper towels and you don’t want to let go just yet. “I’m Maddox, by the way. I’m traveling to Paris, actually. Just a business trip and wedding but trying to add some leisure in there somewhere.” Maddox says eloquently.
“Fletcher.” You offer your hand out towards him to shake as you stare down at him on his hands and knees before you. “But I didn’t ask where you were going.” You watch Maddox as he chuckles and shakes his head.
“Right, but you were going to ask, Fletcher.” Maddox states, but also, he’s right. You were going to ask regardless because your interest has been struck now.
“Shit.” You check your watch, you’re late again. “Thank you.” You say softly, your hand displayed towards the mess on the ground. He smiles and you are running back in the direction of your terminal. When you arrive, it’s completely empty and the gate is closed off to be able to board. “You’re fucking kidding me!” You shout out to no one in particular. You smack your forehead into one of the glass panels as you stare out at the plane -- huffing out a heavy, defeated breath.
Why you and why today.
“Looks like you missed your flight.” You hear a familiar voice behind you like an echo. You turn around and glare at him while he just smiles playfully.
“Yeah, no shit.” You grumble towards his direction. He laughs at your distaste for him.
“You should re-book to Paris. I need a date for this wedding on Sunday.” Maddox casually suggests, shrugging his shoulders to you as if he didn’t just meet you for the first time. “I’ll pay the difference.” He nearly looks like he’s pleading with you to go. You smirk at him, rolling your eyes.
“I don’t have anything better to do, I suppose. But you don’t even know me. I could be a serial killer for all you know.” You suggest and he just laughs.
“Right, I’m totally convinced.” Maddox snorts, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you towards the guest services desk. “Hello, we just need to change this flight.” Maddox smoothly says towards the woman as he hands her his ticket with yours.
While Maddox talks to guest relations you watch him. He eyes you carefully every once in a while as he coyly smiles. What the fuck have you gotten into?
“All fixed.” Maddox warmly says as he hands you your ticket back. You look at it before your jaw drops. You are holding a first class ticket to Paris.
“Holy shit, Dox…Maddox I mean. There’s no way I can accept this.” You mutter out. He laughs boisterously as he flings a bag over his shoulder.
“Dox?” He questions – still smirking. Nice job letting that one slip. You can tell your face turn red hot. “Sure you can, anyway, it’s not refundable. Plus it doesn’t really make sense to take a trip together and fly in separate cabins, duh.” Maddox rolls his eyes towards you and pulls you with him to your new terminal.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s embarrassing. I’m a nickname kind of person. Shit, wait. I’ll have to get a suit, I don’t have one with me. My plans apparently weren’t as sophisticated as yours.” You mumble to him, looking down at your feet under his scrutiny.
“No, not embarrassing in the slightest – I like it. It’s cute. I’ll get you a suit, don’t worry about anything like that this weekend. I asked you to come, so I’m covering costs. Please, it’s my pleasure.” Dox scans his ticket and his hand lightly brushes yours. You suck in a sharp breath.
“What are you, a doctor or something?” You smart off and he chuckles humorlessly.
“It depends, what do you call a career?” Maddox asks, his question genuine.
“Well, definitely not anything as lucrative as a doctor. I’m a photographer, I own my own business on the side.” You mutter out, biting at your nail.
“On the side?” That sounds like its own job to start with.” Maddox smiles at you as you board the plane with him. You find your seats and you try to get comfortable.
“Um, I mean yeah it’s full time work, but I’ve slowed down a lot just from working so much otherwise that turned more into full time than my own business. I’m a crime scene photographer.” You quietly say to him and his face takes on his staple smug smirk.
“No shit?” Maddox laughs, putting the seatbelt on and checking the time. “That’s really interesting to get to say you do.” He finishes – watching you. You smirk.
“It’s honestly not that interesting – I know you are bluffing.” You dryly chuckle.” So then a doctor, right?” You joke, watching his face turn bright red.
So maybe not a joke.
“Fletcher, I uh, I’m actually…” Maddox starts and you blatantly interrupt him.
“A doctor.” Both of you finish together as your voice overlaps his. You stare at him. “You’re kidding right?” You question him after and he hesitates for a moment as he shakes his head.
“I’m a trauma surgeon.” Dox says, a matter of fact. He slides a card across your lap table and you hold it – studying it.
“And you’re talking to me why?” You laugh, feeling like you’re some sort of a joke. “I just seem like not exactly the type of person that a doctor would be after.” You cross your arms, feeling defensive and you watch him take a drink of his coffee. His smirk folds into a thin line stretched across his face.
“So because I’m a doctor I can’t be interested in you or someone like you?” Maddox simply states, his eyes turning into a squinted glare. You shrug, looking out the window for a moment.
“I mean, I guess you could if you wanted to, but there’s nothing great about me that would signify the need to be with me over anyone else.” You say, muttering into the window pane.
“Well, I think you’re special.” Maddox says to you, not turning away. You feel your face turn red hot and you want to look at him but you can’t make yourself.