08/06/2025
“Layovers and Lavender” 💋❤️
The fluorescent lights of Charles de Gaulle Airport buzzed faintly above the near-empty departure lounge. It was just past midnight, the end of a long-haul flight from Tokyo, and Claire felt it in every muscle. Still in uniform—navy scarf loosened, heels swapped for flats—she sat at Gate A27, sipping lukewarm tea from a paper cup.
Across from her, Elena stretched out on the row of seats, dark curls tumbling over her jacket as she scrolled through her phone. Her heels were kicked off beside her, her navy skirt wrinkled, her blouse untucked in quiet rebellion.
They had flown together once before—Madrid to Boston, six months ago—but it hadn’t really clicked then. Just brief smiles and shared meal carts. But this time, over the course of fourteen hours and a red-eye lull above the Arctic, something had shifted. A joke in the galley over bruised fruit. Hands brushing while stowing service trays. A warm look exchanged during takeoff, their eyes holding for a breath longer than usual.
Claire glanced over now, catching Elena watching her over the edge of her phone. The quiet between them was not awkward—it hummed with something waiting.
"You know," Elena said finally, her voice soft but playful, "I think I’ve been awake for twenty-three hours. I may be legally hallucinating."
Claire laughed. “Do hallucinations usually involve more airplane peanuts than this?”
Elena grinned. “No, they usually involve you offering me wine in the galley.”
Claire raised a brow. “Cabernet or confession?”
“Maybe both,” Elena said, sitting up, suddenly serious. “Can I ask something?”
Claire nodded.
"Back in row 42, when we were joking about the passengers who always ask for coffee during turbulence—you touched my arm and said I was your favorite crew member. Was that just... tired talk?"
Claire held her gaze. “I meant it.”
Elena tilted her head. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Claire asked.
“Yeah. Okay, like—that’s what I was hoping.” Elena reached for her scarf, tying it around her fingers as if to stay grounded. “I don’t usually say these things. Especially not on layovers. But I felt something today.”
Claire smiled gently. “So did I.”
A long pause stretched between them. The terminal was nearly silent now, except for the distant rolling of a janitor’s cart and the quiet hum of flight announcements in French.
“I’ve got a 24-hour layover in Lisbon next week,” Elena said casually, but her eyes betrayed something more nervous underneath. “We get a whole day. Ocean. Wine. And, apparently, great sunsets.”
Claire took a moment before replying, savoring the flutter in her chest. “I think I’d like to see a sunset with you.”
Elena exhaled, her smile blooming fully now. “You free to switch to that route?”
“I’ll make it happen,” Claire said. “For you, I’ll fly anywhere.”
Their fingers brushed—subtle, hesitant, but electric.
And somewhere between time zones and terminals, they found a beginning.
