Hey guys, I'm trying to get back into writing again after a writers block that has lasted FOREVER~! Please let me know if you like this and if it's worth continuing, I really love the story idea but I'm struggling with motivation right now T_T As usual I don't own anything, nothing at all...do i even exist...(yes, yes i do)
Enjoy!
Gilbert frowned over at the blonde next to him, anger building every time their knees touched, which was constantly as they were cramped together in flight seats. The fact that they had no seats in front of them did very little to alleviate the building irritation. It was hard to imagine that just a week ago the two had been overjoyed about travelling next to each other for both journeys of their final-year international school trip. Matthew exhaled, looking over at his platinum haired companion with pity in his pale violet eyes. Gilbert grunted and narrowed his scarlet eyes once he caught the Canadian staring. Neither said anything, but as soon as the flight assistant announced that it was safe to remove seatbelts Gilbert stormed off towards the bathroom, eyes suspiciously redder than usual. Matthew sighed as he gazed over his friend's empty seat. He wondered if he could even think of Gilbert as a friend anymore. Things were so complicated between them now.
'I love you.' How could three simple words have brought so much pain. Gilbert spent some time pacing around the front of the plane. The walkways were narrow so he couldn't do it for long without people becoming irate. Reluctantly the anxious red-eyed man made his way back to his seat.
"So is this it then?" Matthew asked, somewhat bitterly. "No talking, you not even looking at me," his eyes were starting to prickle. Discomfort built from the depths of the German's stomach, his shoulders rose with the sensation. He inhaled defensively, desperate to take his anger out on his Canadian counterpart.
"Yeah, I guess it is." There was so much resentment in his voice that Matthew was taken aback. His friend had never spoken to him like that before.
Matthew looked down at his knees, "It's not my fault."
The laugh that followed was forced and grating. "You keep telling yourself that."
The blonde went silent, refusing to acknowledge the provocations from the man next to him. He didn't need Gilbert; they hadn't even known each other that long. They'd been close, sure, but only because neither of them had anyone else. Loneliness was a powerful motivator to make random friends.
So instead they sat in silence, mostly. Gilbert huffed and sighed every time Matthew moved or breathed louder than usual. It was worsened by their close proximity, stuffed side-by-side in tight aircraft seats, and the Canadian kept glancing at the emergency exit door in front of them with a sense of longing.
It was hard for the usually calm Canadian to suppress his irritation when the silvery-blonde man was being so abrasive. He thought back over the past year of them knowing each other, he'd never expected to feel pain because of his dearest friend. He had to admit to himself that it hurt, being treated with such anger, such bitterness. It was too much. He wasn't used to being looked at with such venom. His life had been spent avoiding conflict wherever he could. It wasn't fair, he thought to himself as Gilbert rolled his eyes when Matthew adjusted his glasses. He was about to reach for a bottle of water from the bag at his feet when he heard a tense exhale from his 'friend'.
"Are you going to be like this the whole fligh-" His sentence trailed off as he noticed Gilbert wasn't even looking at him, but was staring wide-eyed out the window. The plane swayed violently and it was then that Matthew noticed the streak of grey smoke that passed suspiciously close to the wing. "What the hell was that?"
A small flash of light from somewhere far below and a sudden thud and the plane began to careen sideways and drop. The plane was falling out of the sky. There was a horrendous noise which Matthew suddenly saw out of the window was the wing tearing off the side of the plane. The air inside the cascading metal tube began to thin. The weight of the remaining wing pulled the plane down horizontally, and unprepared passengers fell, crashing into the opposite side. Matthew's stomach dropped like it did on big roller-coasters, and he felt himself falling, but he didn't move. Strong, shaking arms were wrapped around his midriff. Gilbert was clinging on to him, seatbelt holding him in place. The blonde stared in horror as heavy luggage fell from the racks, raining down on the people below him with sickening thuds and splatters of blood. There was screaming. There was another noise, metal straining hard, and their falling prison began to shake violently.
He began to pray. There was no-one he had in mind specifically, but surrounded by the screams of strangers and friends, fellow classmates and teachers as they fell and broke in the surrounding wreckage, he thought it a good idea to pray. The shuddering got worse and worse, the noise grew until it drowned out the screams. Suddenly the tube jolted once again and began to twist, righting itself the normal way up. The other wing was gone but the tearing had ripped a small hole in the wall and bodies were grotesquely falling through and disappearing into the unknown. They were now plummeting diagonally but at least vertically. Gilbert let go of Matthew and released his belt, staring out of the window. Land looked a lot closer now. Matthew could distinguish treetops and the ocean in the distance. There was so much screaming. Gilbert was out of his seat and standing by the emergency exit. They were getting closer to the ground. Closer, Matthew believed, to death. There was a grinding noise and the emergency door was gone. There was a force that pulled him forward but his grip on the seat was stronger. The air was so thin, everything was spinning but it wasn't the plane. He was so dizzy.
There was something bright and orange somewhere in his vision, suddenly a hand grabbing his jacket and he felt himself being pulled. The edges of his vision were going black but he could feel himself falling. Had Gilbert just pushed him out of the plane? The air whipped around him but he had to close his eyes, the pressure was too great. He expected to feel himself lost in the abyss flying to his death, but he was sitting on something soft. His eyes flew open to see Gilbert shoving something into his arms, which he clung to, and then he was pulling something. They were outside the plane. They were attached to the side of it. His head was spinning as he clung to a handle beside him, sometimes on the seat sometimes hovering above it as they were pulled, ever faster, towards the ground. The tree-tops were almost touching them now. Whatever Gilbert did, they were wrenched free of the plane and suddenly they were falling. He shut his eyes. A warm body was on top of him, clinging to him tightly. A voice in his ear spoke in rapid German, voice broken and afraid. The wind whipped around them, it felt like they were being pulled in every direction at once. Matthew could feel himself vomiting.
There was a lurch and suddenly it was cold. They'd landed. The Canadian sat up and stared around, they'd landed in what he'd thought was the ocean but was in fact a large river. He heard his German friend laughing with relief behind him but it stopped as they saw the large, burning tube of what had been their plane. It was still falling, just ahead of them. Matthew pushed his glasses closer to his face, trying to force away the darkness that was invading the edges of his vision. There was a strange sound coming from the tube, a sort of crackling. Suddenly Matthew's face was pressed into the rubber and thin layer of seawater of the life-raft that saved them as a loud bang shook him to his very core. Suddenly his vision failed, and just before he lost consciousness he heard the man above him screaming.