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Dec. 20th, 2017 04:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
It's warmer than I expect it to be when I finally get off of the plane in Atlanta, even in the climate controlled airport. Sun pours in through the glass windows and makes sweat bead at my temples as I make my way towards baggage claim, though I wonder if that could also be blamed on my nerves. Bittle is somewhere at the bottom of this escalator, and in a few minutes I'll see him in person for the first time in over a month, for the first time since we-- since everything. He won't be untouchable through a phone or laptop screen, but here, right in front of me.
It's almost like graduation all over again, my heart up in my throat, but at least this time I know that he'll kiss me back.
And then I think about kissing him, and I move a little faster. The baseball cap pulled low and sunglasses over my eyes seem to be a good enough disguise, since no one tries to stop me. The escalator descends at a glacial pace and none of the travelers in front of me seem to be in any hurry, so I'm stuck in place.
Almost there, I text him quickly. It's amazing how much my texting skills have improved over the past few weeks. I don't have a checked bag so I'll meet you out front.
My small duffel is packed with two changes of clothes and essential toiletries, reminding me of my depressingly short stay. Still, it's a minor miracle that I was able to carve out the time to come at all.
Finally, I'm able to step off of the escalator and make my way towards the warm doors that lead outside, feeling the sunshine as I get closer to the oppressive. None of that matters, though. I'm too distracted with searching for a mop of golden blond hair, pressing up onto my toes like an excited kid.
It's almost like graduation all over again, my heart up in my throat, but at least this time I know that he'll kiss me back.
And then I think about kissing him, and I move a little faster. The baseball cap pulled low and sunglasses over my eyes seem to be a good enough disguise, since no one tries to stop me. The escalator descends at a glacial pace and none of the travelers in front of me seem to be in any hurry, so I'm stuck in place.
Almost there, I text him quickly. It's amazing how much my texting skills have improved over the past few weeks. I don't have a checked bag so I'll meet you out front.
My small duffel is packed with two changes of clothes and essential toiletries, reminding me of my depressingly short stay. Still, it's a minor miracle that I was able to carve out the time to come at all.
Finally, I'm able to step off of the escalator and make my way towards the warm doors that lead outside, feeling the sunshine as I get closer to the oppressive. None of that matters, though. I'm too distracted with searching for a mop of golden blond hair, pressing up onto my toes like an excited kid.