As soon as the plane leveled out, Lea unbuckled her seatbelt and headed for the bathroom. She wasn't going to be sick, she hoped, but the small space made her feel more secure somehow, distracting her from the miles and miles of open air underneath the plane. She sank down onto the floor that she had helped Arthur clean that morning and closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the wall. She had almost lost track of time when the door banged open and Martin came hurtling through it. Lea tried to pull in her feet, but he tripped anyway, sprawling headlong and whacking his nose against the porcelain sink. It immediately began to spout blood like a fountain, leaking on the floor and through his fingers when he clapped his hand up in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
Lea jumped up from her position on the floor, "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry. My stupid feet were in your way and you just… And you are bleeding! Oh no! Quick, hold your nose over the sink so you don't get any blood on your uniform." She hauled him up from the floor and pushed his head carefully over the sink, pulling a dark blue towel off the rack and handing it to him to press against his nose, which was already swelling up and turning a delightful shade of angry reddish purple.
Martin groaned in pain and embarrassment. He couldn't even walk properly around the girl. How was he supposed to have any chance at all with her? He held the towel to his nose and thanked what little luck he had that in addition to soaking up the blood; the towel was doing a very good job of covering his furiously blushing face. He wondered how he could still retain enough blood in his face to be blushing since it was flowing freely out of his nose. Lea rubbed his back slowly, still apologizing for her part in the catastrophe. Martin leaned his head back and looked over at her.
"It wasn't your fault." He reassured her in a nasally voice, "I should have checked…" He trailed off as he felt her shaking. "What are you…?"
She raised her head and burst out laughing. "I swear I am not laughing at you. It's just, the situation is so ridiculous."
He thought about it for a second and began to grin. "It is a bit, isn't it?" Suddenly, the humor of the situation hit him and he chuckled low in his throat, the laugh bubbling up and out until it became a full-fledged guttural roar of laughter.
Lea listened to him as tears began to stream down her cheeks. His chuckle sent shivers through her- it was deep and rich and dark. He leaned against her, the outpouring of mirth exhausting them both until they were clutching at their bellies and supporting each other. When they finally finished, they were gasping and wiping at their eyes. Martin pulled the towel away from his nose, finding that the bleeding had stopped.
"Well, what do you know? It seems laughter is the best medicine." He grinned and Lea began to chuckle again.
"No! Stop it you horrible man! My stomach hurts too much to laugh anymore." She raised a hand to his face, turning it toward her and peering at his nose. "And your nose isn't as bad as it looked at first, but you should still put some ice on it. I will get Arthur." Before he could protest, she shot out of the bathroom, calling for the steward.
Martin watched her go, completely flabbergasted. He had gone from embarrassing himself and wallowing in the humiliation to genuinely laughing in less than thirty seconds and he had no idea how except that it was all because of Lea. She seemed to take his bumbles in stride, smiling in friendly solidarity rather than pity and he was becoming just a little bit addicted to the feeling.