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Taking swigs of my wine, I watch him pick at the salad. “She could probably microwave some chicken nuggets if it would make you more comfortable.”
He takes a deep, sulky pull of his drink. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Mmm.” I put my feet up on the seat next to me and try to ignore the smell of his food. Gray was supposed to give me a protein bar from his bag, but he’s still in the back and I’m sure as hell not opening that door.
Ethan turns his movie back on and chows down his salad, examining bits of crab and sun-dried tomato on his fork like he's never seen anything like it before. When he sees me looking at him, he nudges the TV screen until I can see it too. He’s watching one of the movies with all the superheroes mixed together. Even without sound, I can zone out and watch people blast each other with particle effects and martial arts kicks. I recognize Spiderman and The Hulk from my childhood, but I don’t know much about them or why they’re working together. Even so, when the movie ends, I sit up incredulously. “Wait, seriously?”
He pulls off his headphones, scraping up the last few pieces of lettuce. “What?”
“Are they all dead?”
He gets a mischievous look in his eye. “Yeah, all of them. There will never be another superhero, ever. Audiences rioted in the streets.”
I arch my eyebrow. “That’s fucking stupid.”
Ethan orders another rum and coke as the stewardess takes his plate.
“Don’t show up in Italy sloshed,” I warn.Or I’ll have to face it alone.
He looks pointedly at the half-empty bottle of wine hugged against my stomach. Wordlessly, I hold it out to him. This time, he forgets to wipe the rim before he drinks. He starts another movie, one with a lot of guns.
And wouldn’t you know, I fucking fall asleep again. He’s dangerous for me.
When I wake up, the lights are off and the cabin is empty. Heart thudding, I crane my neck and look for Ethan, then climb out of my seat with a groan. I need to pee, but the bathroom door is locked.Found him.
I kick the door. “Open up.”
When no one answers, I kick it harder. “Come on.”
I could find the stewardess or Gray, but something tells Ethan isn't going to want that. Sighing, I dig a credit card out of my wallet and start jimmying the lock. I manage to shunt the latch out of position and yank the door open.
Well then.
Ethan’s curled into a ball against the wall, half-asleep, half-sick, arms wrapped around himself. The toilet’s full of vomit. His hair’s a mess, his skin pale.
“Hey there.” I wedge myself into the bathroom and sit cross-legged on the cold rubber floor next to him. He can barely open his eyes. “You’re a mess, aren’t you?’
He groans and grips the edge of the toilet, but I don’t think there’s anything left in him. Eventually he lies back, closing his eyes again.
“I know it’s scary,” I hum quietly. “I know.” I grab some paper towels and wet them, straddling his legs and holding the back of his head. I clean off his face, his full lips and stubbly cheeks, until he’s good as new.
“Come on, big guy.” There’s no way I’m picking him up, but I get his arm over my shoulders and hoist us both to our feet. He moans grumpily. “God. You’re heavy.”
Waking up a little, he lets me guide him down the aisle and lower him into a seat. Leaning against the bulkhead, I watch him try to get comfortable. I know he hurts. I know he’s thirsty. Because I’ve been here, too. I dig around the galley for some water and put it to his mouth, tipping it gently until his throat moves. This time I wipe off his lips with my thumb. There’s a cupboard with blankets at the back, so I pull a couple out and throw them over him. He’s going to feel like hell tomorrow.
I fold myself into the seat next to him and open the window shade, looking out into the night and the darker night beyond, knowing there’s a sun, moon, and stars out there somewhere that I can’t see.
If only someone had done this for me. If only.
But I don’t deserve the same things as him. He’s a simple, pure person, made of cats and cookies and little brick houses full of afternoon sunlight. I’m made of mud and broken things, deep water and suffocation. I pinch my nose and hold it tight shut until the pressure behind my eyes goes away. I need to be swimming right now, free and untouchable, outrunning the dark.
Ethan
I dream of a warm weight against my shoulder. I dream of a voice, very close, quiet as wind on a still day. “I lied. I like how you smell.”
When I open my eyes, sun pours through the window into my lap, warming my stiff fingers. I’m alone in the cabin, but the seat next to me holds someone’s body heat. Pain occupies the space where my memory of last night should be. My mouth tastes like sick.
A door opens, and Gray taps my shoulder. “Buckle up for landing.”
Blinking the grit out of my eyes, I scoot over to the window and watch the clouds part over Italy. My chest drops when the plane banks, but I focus on the huge, sparkling sea and rocky coastline. I flex my jaw to ease the pain in my ears.
Victor doesn’t deign to appear until I can count the trees along the roads that wind through olive-colored hills. He’s freshly showered in tight-ass black jeans and a white shirt with a gold designer logo that highlights his tan. Pulling a beanie over his tangled hair, he slides into his seat and rests his forehead against the bulkhead wall in front of him. The bone at the top of his spine peeks out the neck of his shirt, and the sleeves hang loose around his biceps. He hiccups a couple of times, then buries his head in his arms and holds his breath until they stop.
I hate that I look for him whenever he’s not here. I hate the relief when he appears, like all the bad ways he makes me feel are the only anchor I have.
