A young man sighs as he sits in the slightly noisy airport at two o'clock in the morning. Usually, this airport is full of life and people. Those leaving and coming, all for different reasons. It was quite a sight. But, at this time of the night, there rarely was anyone coming to this airport unless they were trying to run from their problems, or running into the arms of them. This, however, makes the young man wonder why that beautiful blonde that doesn't even look older than twenty-five years would be at an airport at this time of the night.
The man runs a rough, calloused hand through his short, messy, brown hair, contemplating on moving the few seats over to talk to the girl. Figuring he didn't have anything to lose really, he moved two places over before he was in front of the supposedly sleeping blonde.
He opens his mouth to address her, but the girl beats him to it. "What is it, stalker boy." He looks surprised, not even guessing that she had seen him staring at her. "What? Surprised I noticed you staring at me? Well, don't be. And don't get your hopes up. I'm not joining you in the mile high club. You're not my type. So, beat it."
His mouth is agape. How did she know he was there? She was, not only laying lengthwise, occupying about four seats with her head resting on her carry - on, but her eyes were closed. He blushes when what she says catches up with him. "T-That's not what I wanted to ask you, ma'am. I don't like women...like that."
The blonde scoffs, opening her eyes, revealing deep pools of lilac that look like they have seen more bloodshed and death than most veterans in their lifetime. She gives him an incredulous glare. "So, you decided to creepily stare at me for the past five minutes, walk over here, and strike up a conversation despite me being a complete stranger? You expect me to believe bullshit like that?" She shakes her head and closes her eyes. "I might be a blonde, but I'm not stupid."
The young man sighs. "I only wanted to know why a girl your age would be at an airport at 2 A.M. There are only two types of people here. The-"
"The ones running from their problems and the ones running straight into their problems arms, " she interrupts. The blonde cracks one eye open and observes the man across from her. Messy brown hair, tired blue eyes, wrinkled black tee-shirt, torn and faded blue jeans, and dirty combat boots. "One, I'm only thirty-one years old. Two, which one are you?"
The young man shrugs. "Probably running. I'm getting divorced and moving in with my boyfriend who lives in Vale."
The woman opens both eyes and narrows them in suspicion. "You're gay? Not just acting like it?"
He nods and shuffles around in his carry-on bag before he pulls out a worn wallet. He opens it and points to the single picture in it. A young man with a greenish - whitish colored Mohawk and blue eyes in a black button-up and slacks. "That handsome man there," he says, "Is my boyfriend, Russel." The man closes his wallet and puts it away before he faces the blonde again. "My name is Alonso. Now, why are you here?"
The blonde's lilac eyes search Alonso's face before she closes them and chuckles. "Ruby owes me fifty bucks. Knew Russel Thrush loved the rainbow. As the commercial says, 'Kiss the rainbow, taste the rainbow.'" She laughs.
Alonso scratches the back of his neck. "I think that's a skittle commercial."
The blonde re-opens her eyes and stares at the ceiling. "Why am I here?" Alonso nods. "I'm here so that I can right a wrong that needed to be fixed a long time ago...two years to be exact." She then looks at Alonso, determination firing brightly in those wise eyes. "My name is Yang Xiao Long, and I'm going to save someone's life."