I boarded the plane with my carry-on in hand. I took my seat next to the window and opened my book, letting the words drown out the sound of the people finding their seats; my nerves diminished slightly by the comfort of knowing that every page I turned would reveal deeper truth behind the novel.

A man with dark, curly hair thrown into a messy bun took the seat next to me. He smiled, though I knew that he wasn't going to hear anything I would say to him as he had his headphones on. I mouthed a simple 'hi' and returned to my book. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him pull out a sketchbook and drink from a travel mug. God, I would kill for a coffee.

I hadn't had a chance to have one this morning. The trip back home to Puerto Rico had been very last minute to begin with and I couldn't wait to leave again. Too many memories. The frantic rush to get my things together this morning had meant that I had little time to grab the drink from the hotel café. It would have to wait till I got back to New York.

I would miss my island, however. Perhaps not the past that haunted me here, but certainly the music, the food, the atmosphere. Vega Alta had been my home for the first decade of my life and it would always hold a place in my heart, but still, I couldn't stay too long. It was too much.

I sighed more dramatically than intended and turned back the page, my mind had travelled elsewhere and I had no idea what was going on with the characters.

"You doing okay there?" The man who had sat down next to me asked. He had taken his headphones off and was lightly scratching a pencil across his paper.

"Oh, yeah. Just lost focus on this page, it's so annoying when that happens."

It was then that I noticed how… attractive… he was. Loose curls had escaped the black tie holding them together and hung in front of his stunningly green eyes. They were bright with flecks of gold scattered in the iris, not different to the millions of freckles across his face. I bit at the inside of my cheek in response to the thoughts invading my mind.

"I feel that. Something on your mind? Nervous flyer?" His voice was sympathetic as he cast his eyes over me. I shuddered in my seat.

"Uh, no. Not anymore. Just tired I think. Low on caffeine, probably."

He opened his mouth to speak again but was silenced by the flight attendant who had addressed the passengers. She listed off the hundreds of safety procedures that I knew by heart. The way she said them sounded as if we were definitely all going to plummet into the ocean as soon as we took off, much to the distress of the children on the plane. I heard them crying and screaming. I wanted nothing more than to stop the woman traumatising these kids like I had been traumatised at their age. I bit my tongue and turned back to the book.

The engines were loud in my ears as the plane took flight. They popped and I grinned, remembering how much it had confused me the first time it had happened. I read some more but I felt my eyelids beginning to droop as I finished the chapter. They felt so heavy and it wasn't long before I gave in to the temptation of sleep.

I dreamt of my early childhood days, running along the beach with my brother, playing in the sand, dancing in the streets during the festivals which went on - starting in the daytime going all through the night. I was so happy. We were all so happy.

I woke from my dream feeling both happy and sad. It took me a moment to remember where I was. When I did, I sat up straight and felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me, like the sea crashing against the rocks along the coast. I had fallen asleep on the stranger's shoulder and felt my cheeks burn, mortified. I began to pour out apologies, unable to stop the flow.

"I am so so sorry. I didn't realise. God, I'm so sorry."

He put up his hand, dismissing my worries, "it's not a problem, honestly. If it was then I would have woken you up. No harm done. I'm John Laurens by the way, nice to meet you."

"Alexander Hamilton, but Alex is fine."

"We've got about half an hour till we land in New York."

"I slept that long?" I ran my hand through my chocolate brown hair.

"I didn't want to wake you up, you looked peaceful." He smiled again, flashing his lips which were also painted with freckles.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I know, I'm not mad. Like you said, you were super low on caffeine," he twisted one of the fallen curls at the back of his neck, "this is gonna sound crazy but… you wouldn't wanna go for a coffee some time, would you? It's just that there's this new café that opened in my district… and you strike me as the coffee type."

I laughed in surprise. My exhaustion stopped my ability to argue the pros and cons of this proposal and without thinking, I said, " you know what? I'd actually… I'd like that. Sure, why the hell not? Pass me your phone, I'll put in my number."

He laughed, too, "sweet! I promise I'm not a murderer or anything," he added quickly, passing me his phone.

I added my number to his contact list and, out of habit, clicked the home button. His background had a little kid, no older than seven I'd say. Absolutely adorable, his tongue sticking out, holding up a drawing. He had shortish hair, but brown ringlets still sprang out at awkward angles. He closely resembled John and I wondered… perhaps? He had the same eyes, the same facial features, the same freckles. It wasn't a huge leap to piece them together. A nephew? A… son?

"So, John, where exactly is this district where you won't be murdering me?"

I decided not to ask about the kid and passed him his phone back.

"Washington Heights. Well, the café is just around the corner, but I live in Washington Heights." He was tripping over his words. I made him nervous. I liked that.

"Ha! No way. Me, too. How have I never seen you around?"

"I dunno, I guess I'm out a lot. And I only moved there a few years ago."

"That's crazy. What are the odds?" I smiled reassuringly, he looked even more nervous than before and I knew that feeling all too well.

"Well," he coughed, recollecting himself, "that makes you coming to this coffee shop with me a lot less of an inconvenience, right?"

"Sure does, I couldn't refuse now if I wanted to, not that I do want to refuse."

We got off the plane and waited to collect our luggage. We decided that if we were going the same way then we might as well go together. He grabbed his suitcase and it was noticeably bigger than mine. I wondered if his was bigger than mine, too. Alex, stop.

I picked up my smaller rucksack and we started to make our way towards the subway. We got on the A-train and laughed at the rudeness of people in New York in comparison to those in Vega Alta. The people were definitely one of the factors making me miss my island.

We walked through the street and parted ways at the corner bodega.

"Well, text me. We can arrange that coffee."

"I will, and I'll hold you to it. Till next time, Mr. Hamilton!"

"Later, Mr. Laurens!" I saluted casually and turned around, heading for my apartment.

I walked with a newfound confidence I hadn't felt in a long time. It was mixed with the usual butterfly feeling in my stomach, but for the first time since I could remember, I was filled with an excitement that could fuel a rocket to Mars.

I turned the corner, past the kids playing with the fire hydrant as they did every summer. They were getting their fun in now before they'd have to go back to school in a few days. My apartment building was so easy to point out, my apartment in particular because hanging from one of the windows was a French flag contrasting with my own Puerto Rican flag. The vibrant colours illuminated the streets as the music bounced off of the walls. It wasn't the island, but it was sure as Hell the next best thing.

I unlocked the door and found Laf, my roommate and best friend, napping on the sofa, a book resting on his chest. His black afro was out of its usual bun and was a mess on the arm of the couch. I laughed to myself at the thought of him waking up to see such a sight. He would get up in an instant and not leave the bathroom for the next three hours. Realising this, I decided it best to get my shower in before the room became out of bounds.

I let the water wash away my tiredness and soak my hair. I applied the shampoo and conditioner in record time, not wanting to waste the hot water, and rinsed myself quickly with soap. I wrapped my towel around my waist and brushed my teeth. It was midday, but I hadn't had the chance to brush them this morning and I was too drained to care.

Laf had woken up, most likely at the sound of the pipes heating up, and was scrolling through Instagram. He looked up to see me with his deep, brown eyes.

"Welcome home, mon ami. How was the Christening?" He asked me.

"It was okay, yeah. The baby's kinda cute. Looks like my brother." I shrugged.

"Yeah, the pictures I saw were adorable. It's not fair, you have such good genes in that family."

"I mean, have you seen yourself?" I grinned mischievously, remembering his hair, "seriously, look."

I held up my phone camera for him to see and he squealed, "oh mon Dieu! What happened to my beautiful poof?"

I was right, he rushed up and shut the bathroom door. I could only hear the muttering of French curses and the spray of hair product for the next few hours. I took the opportunity to change into my beloved sweats and make the long awaited coffee I had been so looking forward to drinking.

I couldn't stop thinking about him, John. John, John, John.I closed my eyes where I was lying in Laf's place and all I could see was his face. His dimples that made an appearance whenever he laughed or smiled were enough to make me grow hard in my sweatpants. I grinned to myself at the situation and moved for my bedroom. I could at least have a little bit of human decency, though God knows Laf had walked in and seen more than he should have done when I was in the company of some random from the club. Sure, not my finest moment, but hey, it was going great till my best friend crashed the party.

I flopped onto my bed and took in the scent of lavender. Laf must have washed and changed the sheets while I was away. I didn't bother turning the lights on and left the curtains shut. I lay in the dark thinking about him, about what he was like, about his hair, about his tan skin, about what it felt like. I palmed myself through the thin fabric of my sweatpants, focusing on what my hands were doing and melting into the sensations. I imagined his own hands in their place.

His stunning eyes were painted in the darkness. I could remember every detail vividly and longed to see him again.

I opened my eyes. You're being ridiculous, Alex, you just met the guy. 'Longed', pathetic. I cast the thoughts aside and concentrated hard. Concentrated on his lips, his hair. I wanted to know what he tasted like, I wanted to know how his hair felt when I pulled my hand through it. I moved the cotton out of the way to stroke myself properly.

I let my head fall back onto the headboard as I felt myself. The fantasy I had created for myself clouded all of my previous worries and it became a storm of pleasure, taking me nearer and nearer to the edge. I pictured his body in its purest form. He seemed strong, fit. He undoubtedly worked out. God, I would have liked to see that. I wondered if he had abs? I bet he had abs. I imagined feeling him, him feeling me. He was close to me, and I to him. I imagined his muscles tightening and twitching under my touch, that I held him in my hands instead of my own pathetic body. I let myself release. I wish it was on those abs. I wished I was with him.

He seemed so… kind. I felt guilty about what I had done, feeling as though I had somehow lessened his worth by giving into my own dark temptations. The way he looked at me on the plane, full of concern. No one had looked at me in that way since I was a child scrounging for food, crying on the streets after she died, staring into the abyss of my own subconscious in the hope of finding the answers.

Still. That's the past. I was over it. Sure, it bothered me from time to time, but those days were over. I had so much to be grateful for, why did I still want more?

I heard Laf exit the bathroom finally and slip into his room next to mine. I took the chance to sneak into the bathroom to clean myself up. I was an animal, but I had some dignity left. I dampened a washcloth and wiped myself clean, taking a glance in the mirror to see a man I barely recognised. I couldn't tell if the change was good or bad. I had done so well for myself in comparison to my old life, but I could do so much more. I was adamant that I wasn't going to waste my time. The book I had started over two years ago still remained incomplete, I wanted to finish it so badly yet whenever I sat down to have another go at it I would sit for hours having written no more than a sentence, often less.

Retying my hair into its standard knot, I rinsed my face again and grabbed a snackbar. I opened my phone and swiped through the pictures of my newly christened nephew. He certainly shared the family's traits. I was so happy for my brother who had found happiness at last, his wife was kind. They loved each other deeply, I could see it in the way they looked at each other. I wanted that. Not just stolen glances at the club after drinking one too many, I wanted to have a commitment to somebody almost as much as I detested the idea. I shook the thoughts once more and threw my phone to side, opening up my work diary.

Wednesday: Back at school. Plan lessons.

I rolled my eyes. Everything goes to Hell on Wednesdays. Three days. I was annoyed, but I was happy. I enjoyed teaching. I loved the kids. They were so bright, I could see their potential. What I really hated was the long hours of marking and planning that would undoubtedly take over my entire life for the next school year. I looked forward to meeting my class, however. Wednesday would be simple, a day of introductions, a chance to get to know each other and get an idea of where to go from there.

I picked up a notebook from under the coffee table and began to jot down some ideas for what activities we could do. A simple task of standing up and giving three facts about themselves would be nice. Maybe they could get a head start on their biography skills and write a short paragraph about themselves. But that would take so long to mark. But it's an opportunity to better understand my class.

My internal debate was interrupted by the buzz of my phone on the sofa. A text lit up the screen from an unknown number.

Hey. I hope this isn't a fake number, it's the guy from the plane.

I laughed to myself. He actually texted me. I was smiling like a teenager did when they had a crush. I sent him a text of confirmation back.

Nope, no fake number here. It's the other guy from the plane ;)

Taking my phone off of silent mode so I knew when… if… he texted back, I made myself another coffee. It reminded me of our partly assembled plan to go to the new café together. I went over what had happened that day again and scoffed at the ridiculousness of it. We had met briefly and in only a few hours had arranged to meet up again. I had been so confident, a look that I didn't think suited me. But, he was so… charming. Enchanting. Bewitching. How could he have invaded my mind already?

A text.

Yay! Thought you'd played me for a minute. I still want that coffee.

If you still want to I'm free tomorrow? I replied.

What had gotten into me? I silently scolded myself for being so forward, praying he took it well. I took a sip of my hot coffee and it burnt my throat. I could feel it travelling through my body, heating it up. I loved that feeling, even if my lips had to pay the price. They'd seen worse days.

Three dots lit up my screen. I hated those dots.

I can do 3pm? If that works for you. We can meet at the bodega and go from there?

Meet you there ;)

I put down my phone as Laf came to see me.

"Ew, you're smiling. What happened?" he asked.

"I think… I think I just got myself a date, old man." I grinned.

"I'm not old. You're older than me. Anyway, you have fun with that, I have a date now, see you later. Bye!" he waved.

"Bye."