Rolling Thunder
Hey all! This is my first ever fanfic idea I've posted so constructive criticism please. Unless it's that bad! H x A and probably mild language ahead so you're warned. It might also come across as quite serious but we'll see what happens. Also there is a kitten chewing my arm while I write this. Its endearing but super painful.
Narrator POV
Harrison Horace Haddock the Third was in a bad mood. His friends/brothers in arms had flown out with his squadron's apache attack helicopters. It had been a tradition from the units founding during Vietnam to paint the iconic 'shark's teeth' on the noses of their choppers and one of his brave comrades had just emailed Harrison a picture of his freshly repainted chopper. They had daubed red over the teeth and written "Toothless" underneath the jaws in a startling black.
Not only this comedic "gem" from his colleagues but he was trapped on a stuffy C-17 Globe master with a detachment of GI's on the way to Afghanistan and while he could handle low level helicopter flying one look out of a window had turned him green and gasping for a plastic bag. Once it was full he gasped for air and fell over, spilling its contents all over himself.
"You can't seem to catch a break huh." The statement made Harrison grin for a split second before his insides made another titan effort to redecorate the interior of the huge plane and he retched again. "You need a hand?" He nodded frantically at the voice, whose owner he had yet to see due to the fact that he was on his hands and knees covered in breakfast. A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and unceremoniously dragged him to the paltry toilet cube (it didn't qualify as a cubicle in Harrison's eyes) and thrust a water bottle into his hands.
Astrid POV
'Was this guy born on a Native American grave or something?' was my overriding thought as I leant next to the door the unfortunate man was washing in. the door clicked and I stood to be met by striking grass-green eyes and a bad smell.
"uuuhhh, sorry I guess?" said the food flecked man. My mind turned several revolutions as I tried to process this. "For what?" He grimaced. "Well I probably shouldn't have fallen over in the first place." "Dude, you got airsickness! Everyone does once in a while." His eyes betrayed signs of panic as he rubbed the back of his neck and visibly deflated. "Yeah, well the, uh… I kind of….." I grew concerned that he was going to throw up again. "uuummmm… im a pilot?" drawing out the last word and steadily increasing the pitch before tailing off.
If my eyebrows had gone any higher they would have breached the pressurized walls of the plane and caused us all to suffocate.