get a chance to again. "Are we crashing?" My voice was softer than I'd expected it to be. Calmer than I felt.
Thoughts and memories raced through my head. Everything from the fact that I would never see my parents again to the fact that I would never be able to have children and a family of my own. My chest filled with sadness at the loss.
"I don't want to worry you, but you deserve to know... The pilot had a stroke. The co-pilot is doing what he can and I'm sure we'll be fine, but you need to do a I say. Please."
My heart thumped a mile a minute and fear seized my body. A stroke, I thought, horrified. Oh god, I'm too young to die. I didn't know what to think about. I didn't know who to blame. I met Asher's gaze, he didn't look as sure of himself as before, but he reached over and squeezed my hand.
"Hey, it'll be okay," he said calmly. "Just put your oxygen mask on and your life jacket. For me."
I wanted to crack a joke about how that made me not want to do it. Before I could, Asher cupped my face in his large hands and mashed his lips into mine. My heart thumped even harder then, which was silly considering the circumstances. I couldn't help how he made me feel, though.
"See you when this is over, firecracker." Asher winked at me, then put his oxygen mask on and assumed the position he'd told me to do.
I wasted no time obliging his orders. As I rested my head on my knees, I couldn't help but smile. Even when my stomach was lurching from the drop, he had somehow succeeded in making me feel safe. It felt like he knew exactly what he was talking about, and for a brief moment it reassured me. Then it all went black.
I was stumbling down a familiar hallway. A sticky hallway. People were stumbling around me, laughing and taking sips from red cups. I was in the Hamilton dormitories. It looked exactly like the dormitories I lived in across campus, but the Residence Assistant in my dorms were much stricter and didn't let us party since we were freshmen. Residents of Hamilton were all juniors or seniors.
My heel got stuck to something on the ground and I held onto the wall to steady myself, almost toppling over instead.
I knew I shouldn't have had that last tequila shot.
"Need a hand?" a warm, deep voice asked me, cupping my elbow to steady me without waiting for my response.
Turning, I faced the mystery man and remembered him to be the guy hanging out near the beer keg. His blue eyes were full of concern, and my stomach fluttered as I looked up at him. He had this boyish charm to him. When he smiled at me, my heart melted, even though I felt a wave of nausea. Yep, definitely had too much tequila.
He was nice though, I thought in my drunken haze. Why was he nice? Then I remembered: my asshole ex, Ben, had shown up and was being grabby with me. I pushed him away, but he grabbed my wrist, spewing bullshit, claiming I was his. Nice Keg Guy shoved him away from me and told Ben to leave me alone. Ben whipped around and glared at me, as if I was the one who had done something wrong, before storming off. My friend Vanessa grabbed my hand and led me away from the shit storm, insisting that I needed a shot of tequila with her thick Mexican accent. I couldn't say she was wrong.
It was all such a blur and had happened right when I'd arrived hours ago that I wouldn't have even remembered the fiasco if he hadn't come to help me again.
"Are you okay?" Keg Guy looked concerned.
I nodded, my heart racing faster the more I looked at him. He was definitely hot. He had shoulder-length black hair, parted to the right; it made the blue of his eyes even bluer somehow. I took a step--or more like a stumble--backwards, my eyes sweeping over him shamelessly. His build was lean, but muscular.
When I looked back up at him, he was smirking at me. It felt like he knew exactly what I was thinking, and it was making me blush.
"I'm okay," I finally responded, my voice coming out more of a croak than I would have liked. I cleared it and tried again.
Thoughts and memories raced through my head. Everything from the fact that I would never see my parents again to the fact that I would never be able to have children and a family of my own. My chest filled with sadness at the loss.
"I don't want to worry you, but you deserve to know... The pilot had a stroke. The co-pilot is doing what he can and I'm sure we'll be fine, but you need to do a I say. Please."
My heart thumped a mile a minute and fear seized my body. A stroke, I thought, horrified. Oh god, I'm too young to die. I didn't know what to think about. I didn't know who to blame. I met Asher's gaze, he didn't look as sure of himself as before, but he reached over and squeezed my hand.
"Hey, it'll be okay," he said calmly. "Just put your oxygen mask on and your life jacket. For me."
I wanted to crack a joke about how that made me not want to do it. Before I could, Asher cupped my face in his large hands and mashed his lips into mine. My heart thumped even harder then, which was silly considering the circumstances. I couldn't help how he made me feel, though.
"See you when this is over, firecracker." Asher winked at me, then put his oxygen mask on and assumed the position he'd told me to do.
I wasted no time obliging his orders. As I rested my head on my knees, I couldn't help but smile. Even when my stomach was lurching from the drop, he had somehow succeeded in making me feel safe. It felt like he knew exactly what he was talking about, and for a brief moment it reassured me. Then it all went black.
I was stumbling down a familiar hallway. A sticky hallway. People were stumbling around me, laughing and taking sips from red cups. I was in the Hamilton dormitories. It looked exactly like the dormitories I lived in across campus, but the Residence Assistant in my dorms were much stricter and didn't let us party since we were freshmen. Residents of Hamilton were all juniors or seniors.
My heel got stuck to something on the ground and I held onto the wall to steady myself, almost toppling over instead.
I knew I shouldn't have had that last tequila shot.
"Need a hand?" a warm, deep voice asked me, cupping my elbow to steady me without waiting for my response.
Turning, I faced the mystery man and remembered him to be the guy hanging out near the beer keg. His blue eyes were full of concern, and my stomach fluttered as I looked up at him. He had this boyish charm to him. When he smiled at me, my heart melted, even though I felt a wave of nausea. Yep, definitely had too much tequila.
He was nice though, I thought in my drunken haze. Why was he nice? Then I remembered: my asshole ex, Ben, had shown up and was being grabby with me. I pushed him away, but he grabbed my wrist, spewing bullshit, claiming I was his. Nice Keg Guy shoved him away from me and told Ben to leave me alone. Ben whipped around and glared at me, as if I was the one who had done something wrong, before storming off. My friend Vanessa grabbed my hand and led me away from the shit storm, insisting that I needed a shot of tequila with her thick Mexican accent. I couldn't say she was wrong.
It was all such a blur and had happened right when I'd arrived hours ago that I wouldn't have even remembered the fiasco if he hadn't come to help me again.
"Are you okay?" Keg Guy looked concerned.
I nodded, my heart racing faster the more I looked at him. He was definitely hot. He had shoulder-length black hair, parted to the right; it made the blue of his eyes even bluer somehow. I took a step--or more like a stumble--backwards, my eyes sweeping over him shamelessly. His build was lean, but muscular.
When I looked back up at him, he was smirking at me. It felt like he knew exactly what I was thinking, and it was making me blush.
"I'm okay," I finally responded, my voice coming out more of a croak than I would have liked. I cleared it and tried again.
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