10,000 Feet -- Xiumin (Exo)

Request: (Xiumin) Where you meet on a plane and both are shy but fall in love at first sight. But then maybe part your ways and feel sad? And then meet again thanks to fate and vow to keep in contact. 

(A/N: I had this finished yesterday but my internet decided to be dumb so i couldn’t post it. Anywho, this will be in two maybe three parts, this obviously being the first! Enjoy~ )

Flying was not your strong point.

Heck, was it anyone’s strong point? You had never heard of someone who was an avid fan of flying, who flew just because of the enjoyment of it. You were sure somewhere in the world that there probably was someone like that, but either way, it wasn’t yours.

Flying however was just one of those necessary things. To get from one country to the next. If you could travel across the world by by car then would do, however the sea prevented that. 

Yes, you knew statistically you were more likely to get in a car wreck then a plane crash, yet you couldn’t help but feel much safer in on the ground than in the air.

At least if you were in a car wreck there was a chance you could survive. A plane crash? Nadda. Plus, cars didn’t bob up and down at several thousand feet in the sky. 

You however had to it up, and for lack of a better phrase, get over it. Your anxiety of flying had you stuck in your city for the good past of your life. You had occasionally visited other cities and towns within your country, but never outside it. Nothing other than photos and postcards.

It wasn’t until your boss ordered you to take a ‘business vacation’ that you had to shovel your anxiety of flying and get on an airplane.

Or at least the latter part anyway.

Alcohol helped. Alcohol definitely helped. Well, it helped your nerves at least, you wasn’t so if it helped anything else. 

You had forcefully downed a double in the airports bar before boarding, knowing the extortionate prices of alcohol once on the plane. $7 for a single drink? Why didn’t they just rob you? It was practically the same, especially when you needed at least two or three to somber you.

You were sure your boss wouldn’t be too happy either to pay either since it was the company playing for your trip. You were sure he wouldn’t accept your alcohol tab as ‘expenses’. 

At least with a double in your system you were calm and somber enough to withstand the plane taking off. Everything after that would be a breeze. Well, that was what you were hoping for anyway. 

If not, well, you would have to deal with $7 a drink charge and hope your boss didn’t batter you because of it. 

————

You grumbled as you tried for the umpteenth time to stuff your carry on into the overhead. It wasn’t rocket science, it was putting your bag into small compartment and then shutting it, yet for some reason your bag didn’t want to fit. 

It wasn’t exactly big, seemingly smaller than what you had spotted other passengers sporting, yet yours was reluctant to go. You had almost dropped your bag on your face twice in the process, earning a light snickering from a passenger not too far away.

You resisted the urge to shoot them a glare, instead finally giving up with your bag and shuffling into your seat.

Thankfully you had managed to book a window seat. You had read in articles that sitting by a window helped with anxious flyers. You wasn’t sure how that logic worked, surely by seeing how high up you were only made things worse? But you were willing to give anything a shot. If it somehow worked then hey, maybe you wouldn’t need the $7 a pop airline alcohol that seemed more and more tempting by the minute.  

You would just apologise to your boss afterwards and claim it as ‘necessary expenses’. It was his idea to put you on the flight after all. 

You collapsed yourself in your seat, letting our a huff of air as you let your carry on sit on your lap. You gave a downwards glance at your feet, eyeing if it was possible to stuff your bag down infront of your chair without squishing your feet. There was little room for your feet alone in the tight space, even with your tiny ballerina flats. 

You had decided for comfort over appearance today, knowing you would be uncomfortable enough on the flight. Throwing on oversized jumper and dress shorts that hugged you a little too comfortably. For measure, you had even thrown on a pair of black tights, for more of the comfort of whoever you were sitting next to than yourself. 

You didn’t want to make your seat mate uncomfortable with flashing your too milky thighs, now did you? 

Speaking of which, where as your seat mate? You gave a sidewards glance at the two seats beside you that were vacant, travelling your glance to the rest of the aisle. The plane was already almost full, with the hosts and hostesses ushering people along into their seats, chanting that ‘the plane will soon depart’. 

You shrugged at the thought. It was unlikely you would have your row all to yourself - though if you did, then you wasn’t complaining. More room for you. 

Your thoughts were cut off by an audible thud, causing you to jump slightly in your seat. Either the pityful amount of alcohol that was already working its way out of your system or the anxiety of flying made you more on edge today. You knew it was most likely the latter. 

Your eyes rolled up to spot a pair of males at the end of your row, one rather brightly haired male settling into the seat on the end whilst the other whom you couldn’t quite see from your angle tackling the overhead. You mentally grumbled seeing the male fit his bag into the compartment with ease, holding it with one hand and holding his other towards the other male. 

"Do you want your bag in the overhead, Sehun?" the second male currently holding the overhead spoke.

"No, i’m okay hyung" the first brightly haired male - apparently named Sehun - responded.

With that, the second male clicked the overhead closed with much ease, much the opposite fashion you had attempted prior. You couldn’t help but hug your carry on closer to you with a twang of jealously because of it.

It took a few seconds for the cogs in your brain to process you were staring before flittering your eyes away from the pair and out of the small aircrafts window.You watched as numerous airport staff suited in orange cladding scuttered around on the runway holding all sorts of equipment that you hadn’t a clue what it did. What was that thing they were waving about?!

You hadn’t left yet and were still station on the runway, yet you still felt nauseous from merely looking out the window. You made a mental note to shoot whoever said a window seat was better for anxious flyers. Metaphorically speaking of course.

You let out a ragged sigh, letting your body slump and running a hand through your dishevelled hair as the airplane attendant’s voice boomed throughout the aircraft. According to the way-too-polite attendant you were about to take, off among various other things you barely paid attention too. Safety rules and all that malarkey. 

This was it. There was no going back. Once you were in the air there was no way you could get off. 

You were ever more thankful now for the double shot of alcohol in your system. If you would have been 100% sober you were sure you probably would be hanging off the edge of your seat right now.

Infact, you were sure if you had been 100% sober that you probably wouldn’t have mustered up the courage to get on the plane in the first place.

Thousands of people flew every year and they were fine. Thousands. You would be fine too. 

You just had to remember that. 

————-

When had you fallen asleep? Wait, when had the plane even taken off?

The last thing you remembered was the hostess pestering you about your seat belt and how you needed to have it done up before the plane could leave. You had complied - with a scoff and a roll of the eyes of course - but everything after that filed a blank. 

How was a flimsy piece of material around your waist going to make any difference, huh? You guessed a whole pile of nothing. 

You groaned internally at the thought. Your mind really wasn’t helping thinking up such things when you were already anxious about being on a plane in the first place.

You let out a raspy yawn, the over recycled plane air making your throat scratchy and dry. You felt a light thudding at the forefront of your skull that told you the double you had downed earlier had long made its way out of your system and you were now in the hangover stages.

You were dehydrated and had a headache. Perfect.

You would make sure you tell your boss how wonderful your flight had been once you were landed. You were sure he had made you go on this forced business vacation for the one time you had accidentally spilt coffee over his lap. 

It wasn’t even hot coffee, luke warm at best and in your opinion it wasn’t even your fault. Who even left a half finished cup of coffee on their desk anyway?

You stretched your arms above your head, attempting stretching your back in the process too, hearing the joints pop and crunch in complaint of your tight position. Business class gave you a tad more room than economy yet you still felt cramped and uncomfortable. Your carry on - now seated by your feet - didn’t help with that either. 

As if risking your life by flying wasn’t bad enough in the first place, you had to put up with your body feeling like you were a 1000 years old. 

You hadn’t even noticed your seatmate was also awake and currently watching you in your antics before you heard a light snickering coming from your right. 

You had almost jumped in your seat in surprise from the sound, your head jointing to the side to come face to face with a male roughly the same age as you. Emphasis on the roughly part. His face said younger, yet his body (which you were totally not taking too long to take in) said older. Either way he was … was there a word for hot and cute? 

"I’m sorry, you look uncomfortable" he said barely louder than a whisper, keeping his voice a hushed tone obviously not wanting to disturb the other passengers. 

You hadn’t even noticed until now the plane had been dimmed from earlier and from a quick glance around you could see that the majority of the other passengers were sleeping. Some even had blankets wrapped snuggly around them yet their faces still read discomfort. You couldn’t really blame them either, you didn’t know anybody who could genuinely sleep comfortably sitting up. 

That thought distracted you from your seat mate for a second before realising you hadn’t answered him. You rubbed at the back of your neck, biting the inside of your lips together trying to contain the awkward smile that threatened to spread across your face before speaking. 

"Ah.. yeah, this is my first time flying” you admitted, trying to keep your voice as low as possible too yet still able to be heard. 

The last thing you wanted to do was wake someone up, especially your seatmates friend whom looked equally as uncomfortable asleep as most of the other passengers on the plane.

"I see, are you nervous?" he said in a hushed voice back. You bit the inside of your cheek lightly at the thought. Where you that easily readable? Did you scream ‘flying makes me anxious’?

"I was. I mean.. I am. It’s a little late for that now though” you replied back in a whisper, leaning back into your seat attempting to get more comfortable. The shift in position gave you a second of relief before the nagging ache came back.

How you wished you could get up and walk around for a little bit. 10,000 feet in the air or not. 

You watched as your seatmate gave a light chuckle at your words, shaking his head slightly in response. You couldn’t help but feel your own lip corners upturn slightly at the sight of it. 

Gosh, you were being like one of those dorky girls in the dramas. You really had to get ahold of yourself. At least you wasn’t blushing. You felt a little clammy but you were sure that was just the lack of air in the plane. You were sure of it. 

"I’m Minseok" he finally spoke after he had stopped chucking at your response, untucking one of his hands and holding it out towards you.  

You stared at it for a moment before untucking one of your own, wiping away the non excitant sheen off your hand before giving his hand a light, single shake. 

"I’m _______, it’s nice to meet you"

And with that, your flight didn’t seem so awful anymore.