Post by Edward Cullen on Dec 13, 2012 20:15:39 GMT -5
Edward needed this, his mind willed. He was staring down in to the eyes of a flustered, yet incompetent, ticket attendant. Her dyed curls were bouncing agitatedly as she spun around assuring him that the earliest flight was in ten hours. That wouldn't do. He could hear her thoughts as she rambled on and on, and knew for a fact that there was a two fifteen flight in nearly half-an hour.
"Really ma'am, please, the cost is no matter, I need a flight to Canada in the next three hours. It's an emergency."
She looked back at him startled. Her thoughts were jumbled too, he's a keeper…price is of no matter…I wonder why his eyes are so sparkling…and gorgeous… focus…and flight he said? Edward could tell that she was in no mind to speak coherently or think, for that matter. He quickly—for a human, but tiresomely slow for him—placed my passport and gold American Express card on the counter. Her expression cleared briefly.
"Oh, yes, okay, um.." she mumbled.
"I do recall you mentioning a flight in about thirty minutes at gate B32 to Calgary. Please see whether there is an available seat and book it, regardless of price," he responded.
He hoped she would not realize the fact that the information had been plucked from the heads of her co-workers. Her fingers started nervously clicking in about a minute he could tell she had found a seat.
"There's one on the flight, business class, seat 4F, but you'll have to run fast to get it" she cautioned. He half-smiled inwardly at the statement, he could run fast. Though it might scare the passengers.
She turned around to collect the printing ticket and gestured for him to grab a tag to check his bag in. However, he had already filled the tag and had it waiting, limply hanging off the handle of my suitcase. Time seemed so slow now. Dripping by agonizingly. While he may be able to run to the gate and back—several times—before she finished the transaction it still wouldn't speed up her actions. She picked up the hard plastic credit card and slid it slowly through the register. Finally she placed it back on the counter her over-powdered forehead wet with confused perspiration. Edward grabbed the card and the ticket just slightly faster than the average human and quickly muttered,"I'll need to be hurrying now."
He slowly sprinted towards security and hoped the flight attendants would not have closed the gate by the time he reached it.
He nearly missed it. Edward reached the gate just before the doors had closed. He walked down the metal connector and soon he was on the plane. Planes were things he typically disliked. The overbearing smell of the gray fabric cushions and the scent of so many humans packed in one tiny metal contraption was too much to handle. He heard the music each of the passengers were listening to overlaid and clashing with each other. Classical with pop, country with rock, so on and so forth. But, he had more pressing matters. He needed to focus on where he would start his search for Victoria. Suddenly he saw my life from an outsider's perspective. What would he do once he was finished with Victoria? What would he have left to live for? Again the raucous crashing music of at least thirty different people met his ears as he failed to block them out. But the ordinarily chaotic noise was dull, more like the white noise of rain, or the friction of a dead TV.
He could tell it was there, but for the moment he felt hollow. It was as though nothing could every hold any meaning. Edward had tried to trick himself, to commit that hunting Victoria would be his priority. And it would, but it would never hold his attention. It would never distract him from the agony or the emptiness that filled his being. Victoria would be temporary, the agony left from her wake would never leave. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Edward would not allow the pain to overtake him now among strangers. Later, he told myself, later he would revisit it. For the rest of that dismal plane ride he sat composing his face so that a passerby may even consider him asleep. But, inside he replayed every touch, every look he had shared with her.
"Really ma'am, please, the cost is no matter, I need a flight to Canada in the next three hours. It's an emergency."
She looked back at him startled. Her thoughts were jumbled too, he's a keeper…price is of no matter…I wonder why his eyes are so sparkling…and gorgeous… focus…and flight he said? Edward could tell that she was in no mind to speak coherently or think, for that matter. He quickly—for a human, but tiresomely slow for him—placed my passport and gold American Express card on the counter. Her expression cleared briefly.
"Oh, yes, okay, um.." she mumbled.
"I do recall you mentioning a flight in about thirty minutes at gate B32 to Calgary. Please see whether there is an available seat and book it, regardless of price," he responded.
He hoped she would not realize the fact that the information had been plucked from the heads of her co-workers. Her fingers started nervously clicking in about a minute he could tell she had found a seat.
"There's one on the flight, business class, seat 4F, but you'll have to run fast to get it" she cautioned. He half-smiled inwardly at the statement, he could run fast. Though it might scare the passengers.
She turned around to collect the printing ticket and gestured for him to grab a tag to check his bag in. However, he had already filled the tag and had it waiting, limply hanging off the handle of my suitcase. Time seemed so slow now. Dripping by agonizingly. While he may be able to run to the gate and back—several times—before she finished the transaction it still wouldn't speed up her actions. She picked up the hard plastic credit card and slid it slowly through the register. Finally she placed it back on the counter her over-powdered forehead wet with confused perspiration. Edward grabbed the card and the ticket just slightly faster than the average human and quickly muttered,"I'll need to be hurrying now."
He slowly sprinted towards security and hoped the flight attendants would not have closed the gate by the time he reached it.
He nearly missed it. Edward reached the gate just before the doors had closed. He walked down the metal connector and soon he was on the plane. Planes were things he typically disliked. The overbearing smell of the gray fabric cushions and the scent of so many humans packed in one tiny metal contraption was too much to handle. He heard the music each of the passengers were listening to overlaid and clashing with each other. Classical with pop, country with rock, so on and so forth. But, he had more pressing matters. He needed to focus on where he would start his search for Victoria. Suddenly he saw my life from an outsider's perspective. What would he do once he was finished with Victoria? What would he have left to live for? Again the raucous crashing music of at least thirty different people met his ears as he failed to block them out. But the ordinarily chaotic noise was dull, more like the white noise of rain, or the friction of a dead TV.
He could tell it was there, but for the moment he felt hollow. It was as though nothing could every hold any meaning. Edward had tried to trick himself, to commit that hunting Victoria would be his priority. And it would, but it would never hold his attention. It would never distract him from the agony or the emptiness that filled his being. Victoria would be temporary, the agony left from her wake would never leave. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Edward would not allow the pain to overtake him now among strangers. Later, he told myself, later he would revisit it. For the rest of that dismal plane ride he sat composing his face so that a passerby may even consider him asleep. But, inside he replayed every touch, every look he had shared with her.
