Catching Red Eyes

“Alright, good job in there.”, Marc said as we were waiting in the airport for our boarding call.
“Uh, I didn’t do anything.”, I said.
“You will next time. Harry is coming to the states next week for the second half of the interview but I wanted you to see what it was like to get a plane, fly to another country, then come right back the same day. It’s all part of it. Besides, no one else really wanted to come.”
“Wait, you said everyone was busy with the Grammys and aren’t these flights expensive?”, I was so confused.
“They are busy with the Grammys but well, you will see with the jet lag why no one wants to do these and frequent flyer miles.”
I just nodded. Great. I have class Monday, or tomorrow? Does jet lag work like that? We boarded the plane back to New York and after what felt like forever, we took off and I was immediately asleep.
“Rowan.”
I turned and saw him. He looked perfect. Same tight jeans but his buttoned shirt was now a soft, white t shirt. I could see his tattoos through the shirt and I could smell the familiar woody sweetness. I walked toward him. We were in some kind of bedroom but it felt familiar and safe. He closed the gap between us and put his hand on my cheek. I melted into his hand as the smell intensified. I closed my eyes and felt him push his body onto me. I opened my eyes and was hypnotized by him. He was inches from my face. I traced the outline of his lip with my eyes and parted my mouth, waiting for his to meet mine. The intensity and longing was growing, every inch of me was yearning for his mouth and hands all over me. I looked back up into his eyes and pushed my lips onto his-
“Rowan! What the hell are you dreaming?!”
Marc’s voice cut into my dream and I jumped and almost smacked my head on the top of the cabin. I looked over at Marc and a list of embarrassing things popping into my head as to what I was saying or doing during my dream.
“Seriously, what were you dreaming? You were moaning.”
Great, great, great. Of all the things. I mean I guess it was better than actually kissing Marc thinking he was Harry.
“And you were really close to making out with me. Ya know, I could fire you for sexual harassment. What were you dreaming?”, Marc asked again. I could hear a hint of humor in his voice and I smiled at him and excused myself to the bathroom.
I splashed some water onto my face and rubbed my eyes. My reflection was dismal but my eyes were bright. I hadn’t seen them this bright since I got my acceptance letter into NYU. I looked at myself a few minutes longer and found my way back to my seat.
“Oh my God, you had a dream about Harry, didn’t you??”, Marc asked. I looked at Marc and just smiled.
“I’m going back to sleep.”
“Mhmmm, sweet dreams.”

Notes