~Anna~

Anna was sitting and looking out the window from her seat, waiting while the plane prepares for take-off... twenty minutes late. There's a whole assortment of magazines in the pocket of the seat in front of her, but none that she would actually read unless her life depended on it. Anna was just preparing herself to be totally bored, when she heard a charming male voice.

"Excuse me," says the man, reaching over Anna's head and shoving his duffel bag into the overhead compartment. "Looks like we're going to be seat buddies," He slides into the seat next to her... and she couldn't help but notice that he had the most hideous beard she's ever seen on a man. "So much for meeting the love of my life on this plane", she thought, moving her arm away from his on the armrest. He looks like he has roadkill hanging off his face.
"Hi," Anna said simply, reaching into her bag for one of her own magazines.
"What are you reading about?" the man asks the dirty blonde haired girl, peering over her shoulder at the article she turned to.
"The Beatles," she told him, giving him a look that she hope says 'I don't want to talk'. Secretly, she highly doubt that he knows anything about a band as hip as the Beatles.
"Sounds gear," he says.
"You like the Beatles?" Anna asked indifferently, turning a page, suddenly noticing the strong accent he had but decided not to question him.
"I guess you could say that," he says, giving her a slightly crooked grin. She can't exactly help but notice that his grin is kind of attractive... but she can't really get past the whole beard thing.
Soon enough, the stewardess comes out to demonstrate the safety procedures, and the plane is rolling down the runway. Anna continue to read about the Beatles, stopping occasionally to look out the window.
"So, do you like flying?" the man asks, as the plane lifts off. She shrugs, not knowing what else to do. "My name is... Hari, by the way," he says, giving another friendly smile. "And you are?"
"Anna," she said, not looking up from the article. It has a particularly attractive photograph of George Harrison. Anna hummed in approval as she gazed at the picture of the Quiet Beatle more.

Hari noticed this and smirked slightly, staring at the girl quietly before sparking up a conversation.
"So. Are you a Coca-Cola person, or a Pepsi-Cola person?" Hari asks her, as the stewardess approaches with the drink cart.
"Coke," she told him. "I'm not really fond of Pepsi."
"Good plan," he says, and requests a Coke from the cart. "I usually get Pepsi, but it's been a while since I've had Coke. Sounds good to me. On a completely different note, do you like dogs or cats?"
"Cats," she answered plainly.
"I guessed as much," he says. "You look like a cat person. You know... pretty, elegant, all those good things."
"Oh, um, thank you," Anna smiled lightly, guessing that he's either flirting or is just a good conversationalist.
She stared at him, thinking of how nice it would be if the guy sitting across from her were this friendly & cute. She took a Coke and stowed it away in her bag. She rested her head against the window and shut her hazel eyes, hoping to dream sweet dreams of Paul McCartney while flying over the Grand Canyon. The next thing she knew, Hari is shaking her awake to tell her that the captain of the flight has turned on the seatbelt sign. He has requested that everyone take seats due to upcoming turbulence.
"This should be fun," Hari says, buckling his seatbelt and checking Anna's for good measure.
"Tell me about it," Anna said sarcastically, as the plane goes over a pothole (or something to that same effect). "I think I'm going to be airsick."
At that moment, the plane lurches, throwing her against Hari's shoulder. "Oops, sorry," Anna said, ramming her own shoulder against the window as the plane lurches in the opposite direction.
"Here," Hari says, handing her the air sickness bag and smiling weakly. She smiled back, taking the bag... just in case. "Thanks." Anna found herself thinking that actually, his eyes are rather nice as well. If he would only shave off that stupid looking beard, he wouldn't be a total loss.
Anna frowned, taking a closer look at that beard. Is it her imagination, or is his beard kind of... crooked?
Why in the world would someone wear such an ugly fake beard on purpose? she wondered.
"I've never really liked planes," Hari confides, clutching the armrests. "I told my friends I'd like to get married, maybe have a few kids before I die..."
"Haha," Anna laughed, wondering whether to tell him that she herself always chose planes over trains, mostly just because it was safer, well in her opinion. "Yeah, I've always promised myself that I'll see the Beatles live at a concert before I do anything to endanger my life," she quoted.
Hari looks strangely serious, and for a moment she thought he's taking the turbulence way too seriously. But then he leans toward her. "Could I tell you a secret? Off the record?"
"Uh," Anna said in a confused tone, praying he's not about to confess his undying love for her. "Sure... I guess."
And with that, he tugs on the end of that scruffy brown beard and yanks it off his face.