The clouds look like normal dark gray cotton balls for the lack of a better term. Apart from the special New Year's menu, nothing seems special inside the plane he is riding. He looks at the window again and contemplates his decision to fly on a New Year's Eve just to have a vacation. He rarely gets one and so he was so determined to have it this time that he never took note of the day or what he will do. Most people would want to spend the New Year's Eve with their family and friends, on the ground and not flying halfway around the globe to Greece.
"Hello, Mister." The flight attendant tucks the two to three strands of her hair as Leon faces her. "Here is the roasted salmon you asked for."
"Thank you." He allows the lady to set it in front of him along with the glass of champagne that comes with it.
"Do you need anything else?" The attendant smiles at him.
"Nothing, I'm good." He tries to smile but he ends up just awkwardly nodding his head. He just wasn't in his 'A' game for this night. She just lightly bows her head and makes her exit.
The white house was very generous to provide him a first class ticket. He insisted it's not necessary but President Adam was very firm with his order. Being in a first class section, it is expected that it's spacious with good ambience. The flight attendant is very attentive, mostly to him since it seems like he is the only person in the first class section for tonight.
"Hey, stranger."
His hands pause and the utensils hover above the half eaten dish. He could recognize that voice anywhere, even in his sleep. For he has dreamt of that voice too many times that he lost count. Though in his many dreams, she calls his attention by 'Hey, handsome' rather than 'hey stranger'. Somehow he is reminded of that strange merchant back in Spain when he hears 'stranger' so Leon wishes she could have stuck with calling him 'handsome' instead.
He finally musters up the courage to turn his head and look at her. "That doesn't look appetizing." She casually sits next to him and crosses her legs, like she never lied, used or betrayed him.
Like she didn't withhold the fact that she is a secret spy and toyed with him when he was still an innocent rookie cop 8 years ago. Like she didn't fake her death and fooled him for 6 years. Like she didn't just use him as bait to complete her mission in Spain 2 years ago.
"Name's Leon. Nice to meet you too." Was all he could say. The sarcasm and coldness in his voice could fill the entire plane.
"Where are you heading to, Leon?" The woman in the red dress and black coat asks.
"Greece. You?" He resumes eating the rest of his food.
"Switzerland." She replies as she opens the brochure that was given to her at the airport. She nonchalantly scans through the material while hoping that he will keep playing pretend. Because that's what she has been doing, the pretending game has been an integral part of her ever since she can remember.
"To see the Northern lights?" He asks.
She hums in approval then puts the brochure away, couldn't even pay attention to it in the first place even if she wanted to. "How did you know?" As she diverts her attention back to him, she finds him looking at her but only for a second. As their eyes meet, he slowly moves his gaze back to his plate.
"Who doesn't want to?" If he were to be honest, he wasn't actually sure Northern lights could be seen from where she is heading off to. "Don't all people go there to see the lights?"
"Maybe. But not everyone appreciates the magnificent beauty of nature. It's art." She leans back in her seat and observes the masterpiece sitting next to him. Even though he seems to have forgotten or bypassed shaving, each facial hair scattered on his jaw is positioned perfectly. He'd blend in perfectly in Greece, in her head, she believes he would look like a work of art once he gets to Parthenon, even getting scouted by the locals to be a gladiator. She giggles at how much her imagination spanned.
He ignores the sketchy humor she didn't bother to share. "People tend to over-complicate art."
"How do you say so?" She rests her elbow on the armrest, leaning towards him and urging him to elaborate his reply.
"Say a painter drew a cabinet, he or she colored it red. The painting ends up in an art museum." He pauses and looks at her. Her attention is focused on him and he gets a bit taken aback. Has he ever seen her not minding anything else like what she is doing now? If he did, he can't remember.
This woman is never drawn to him every time they cross paths. Her concentration has always been on what her objective is and he doubts she has ever listened to the nonsense topics that people blurt out.
"Anyway." he continues and looks in front of him instead. "The people who visit there would observe, analyze and have their own conclusions about what the painting is about."
She nods and waits for a second if he will add something. He didn't and so she asks a question. "Is there anything wrong with that? Shouldn't art be appreciated by many people?"
"There is nothing wrong with appreciating it. However, there will be ones who think it's a good because of fine lines, smooth brush strokes and vibrant red color but then there would be others who believe it's a sign that the artist has been bottling up years and years of frustration from being an outcast to growing up alone which resulted to poor life decisions. Therefore for them the artist is secretly a deranged murderer who keeps dead bodies in a closet so that's why it's colored red."
The faint laughter he hears is exceptionally rare. Too far-out from the typical spy he knew but then again, he is not even sure if he has ever met the real one already. He is not even sure what her real name is
"Do you not like the color red?" She asks him, still trying to recover from the absurdness of this statement. There is some truth in what he said but she wants to steer off the topic of anything related to violence.
"That's your take away from what I said?"
"No. I get your point. It's like how people glorify coffee. They add plenty of other ingredients in it to make it 'better' like it's a magic potion. Truth is it just makes it more expensive. Caffeine is caffeine." As she sees the glint in his eyes, she knows she struck a nerve then gives him a sly smile.
"Why are you comparing a painting to a coffee?" He asks, trying to hide the amusement in his face. He just can't believe how absurd their current topic is.
"That's not my point." She was ready to retaliate and her tone still kept him enticed. "Coffee you get from Starbucks is not that much different from 7 eleven, it's all in the mind. A lot of people can basically customize their own coffee according to their preference. You pay for an expensive cup so then you have to convince yourself that it's better than the coffee that can be bought anywhere or can even be made a home."
"Excuse me, sir." The flight attendant stops beside them. "Are you done with your meal?"
He looks down at his empty plate and is actually stunned to notice he is done. His mind must be too immersed in their short twaddle. "Yes, I am done."
The staff does her tasks quietly. "Do you need anything else?"
"No, I-We . . " He pauses. He looks around for a bit. The aisles around them are practically empty. It's almost skeptical to think that this circumstance is even possible. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he enjoys her company. "Another glass of champagne for me and the lady. Thank you."
The flight attendant politely bows and smiles, somehow it's a forced smile compared to the more genuine one she gave Leon earlier.
"I hope you like Champagne." He says once they are alone again.
"So Leon" A sly smile forms on her lips. "Do you always treat women with champagne from first class plane rides when you get the chance?"
"Maybe." He looks at the window and checks the time. They will be arriving at their destination in an hour or so. He feels the need to take a deep breath as a somber feeling surrounds him. "Do you want to switch seats?" was all he could say.
"No, I don't need a window seat to appreciate the view." She bluntly says while looking at him.
He could see as well from his peripherals that she was staring. He ignores it. "I don't always offer my window seat to strangers either." To her he might not be a stranger anymore. But to him, even if he has met her a couple of times, this woman is still bewildering him every now and then, it's like he is in a maze that he knows he needs to escape but can't. Or rather don't want to.
Their champagnes arrive after a short while.
He holds his glass and waits if she will clink hers to his. She does. The smirk on her face and her eyes on him while he drinks the contents in this glass are too much of a tease to set aside. "Why are you not drinking yours?" is all that he could ask before his mind wanders off and decides to entertain the idea of flirting back. He wouldn't mind if she would ask him to sneak inside one of the bathroom stalls and join the mile high club. He would leave traces of his mouth on every inch of her skin. He would but then this night would just be another meet and banter before going their separate ways like usual.
"Waiting for midnight, I guess." She looks at the bubbles, slowly fading in her glass.
"Why did you decide to fly on New Year's Eve anyway? Shouldn't you be down there along with other people?" He looks out the window and sighs. He knows she will just dodge his questions or answer with another question as usual. Why did he even bother asking?
"I never really liked being with people. I don't like celebrating extravagantly like other normal people. If that's how you normally celebrate special occasions anyway." She finally takes a small sip of her drink.
He scoffs and keeps his eyes out the window. "What's the standard of being normal anyway? The line between being good and bad is so thin that we can't consider a person good or bad, normal or not normal."
She darts her attention back at him, her gaze far softer compared to before. "True but it's up to the perspective and opinion of the person. In my opinion, I believe you are a good person."
"Offering you the window seat and treating you to champagne doesn't make me a good person. I mean sometimes I just don't want to be nice at all. Because they will paint you as this role model or icon to the point that it's so suffocating."
He runs a hand through his hair. There are times that he wishes he could just be a rookie cop again. Then things wouldn't be too complicated or for a lack of a better term, overrated. Some people know him as this Special Government Agent and they expect too much from him, like they could just send him anywhere at any time.
"It's tiring to be a good person all the time." He shrugs "Sometimes I just get so tired. Then if I make one mistake or do one wrong move they will all look at you like you betrayed them. But no, their own false expectations betrayed them. Still, I'm the bad one, I'm the disappointment." Her hands reach up, itching to touch his head, cradle his face, anything to comfort him.
As he shifts his body to turn around, she moves her hand back, just in time for him not to notice or have an idea what she was about to do.
"Sorry, I'm ranting like a kid." He apologizes and scratches the side of his face, and ends up thinking if he should shave soon or not.
She just smiles softly and clinks their glass once again, even if his is empty, before drinking the rest of the liquid in her glass.
"Good evening, passengers. This is your Captain speaking, I hope everyone aboard is having a good time. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. We are now passing through the Prime Meridian and therefore I would like to greet everyone a Happy New Year. The cabin crew will be more than willing to assist you throughout the rest of the flight. I'll talk to you again before we reach our destination. Until then, sit back, relax and enjoy the rest of the flight."
They both look at each other after hearing the announcement of the captain from the speakers. Who would have thought that Leon would be spending his New Year in a plane but with the woman he yearns for. His attempts to despise her have always led to failure. Stubborn as he is, he refuses to believe that she doesn't give a damn about him. If talking about senseless topics is a form of manipulation then he'd take the risk.
He gets up and pulls out his phone. "I have an idea." Pulling out the earphones from his pocket, he plugs the jack and plays a song in his phone then places his phone in his back pocket before placing one of the earpieces in his ear. "Come here."
She gapes at the undaunted expression on his face as he holds her hand and urges her to stand with him along the aisle. He places her hand on his right shoulder blade, his eyes focused on her hand as he positions it then those blue orbs slowly peer towards her own eyes. She manages to cope with the intensity of his stare while placing the other earpiece in her ear. She could hear a faint melody, almost enchanting that it feels like it's taking control of her feet.
He wraps his hand around her left hand and keeps their elbows at around shoulder height while he puts his other hand on her back. He takes a step forward, gently guiding her to take a step back. It wasn't an instant flow, there are some pauses in between each step they take. Whether he steps forward, backward or to the side, he keeps his eyes on her.
She gives up. She averts her eyes away and rests her head on his chest. She could hear the music from her one ear while listening to his heartbeat from the other one.
"Happy New Year." He quietly tells her. His voice is so soft she almost didn't hear it.
She smiles and her hands lift up to his nape. Her fingers play with the tips of his blonde hair while he wraps his arms around her waist, their feet still gracefully stepping from one part of the floor to another. If she could accompany him for the rest of his trip, she gladly would.
But unfortunately, she's knows she is already pushing her luck just by sitting next to him in this plane. She gently leans her head away from his chest and looks at him. His expression has this mix of bitterness and sorrow, even so he is still undeniably handsome and charming. She softly kisses his lips. A kiss that's a million times better than their first. This time is very dear to her that she just wants to keep pressing her lips to his. But she knows she needs to be the one break it. And so she does pull away then whispers in his ear.
He froze after hearing her introducing herself to him then informs him it's nice to meet him. Going back to their pretend game he started earlier. Only now he is not sure if she introduced the real her to him this time.
"Happy New Year, handsome."
After that she makes her way towards the other aisle until she disappears from his sight, like a siren paralyzing him.
"This is your Captain speaking, we will be landing shortly . . ."
It's only when he hears the announcement from his speakers that he comes to his senses. He puts the dangling earphone away and sighs heavily. Tonight was unexpected and yet it's something that he has wished had happened a long time. Maybe if they were living a different kind of life then they would have had a better chance. But at least for tonight, something happened that doesn't happen all the time.
"Tsk, Women."
A/N: These two can be quite a headache but there are some moments where I can't help but be convinced that in a different world, they would be make a good match. It's been a long cat and mouse game but after their moment in Resident Evil Damnation, I can't help but believe that they just secretly meet from time to time. I hope you enjoyed this pre-Valentine Aeon fic. Lots more romance one-shot of different RE couples lined up.
