"This is your captain speaking," the tinny voice came over the loudspeaker. "We're about to begin takeoff on our flight to LAX International. Clear skies all the way, and the wind seems to be with us, so we should be arriving in just over three hours time. Make sure your seatbelts are fastened and your tray table is in the upright and locked position, and let's all enjoy the flight."
The plane was only half-full, most likely thanks to the Covid virus and rising prices, but those aboard began to adjust themselves and their carry-on luggage, an air of eager anticipation filled the plane.
One passenger, however, sat stock-still, her eyes darting about the cabin and out the windows as she felt the vibration of the revving jet engines make her body shake in the small, uncomfortable seat.
Ashes was on her way to visit her family in California. It had been more than a year since she'd moved to Texas, and as she sat on the runway of DFW airport, she hoped thoughts of home might calm her anxiety about flying.
A beautiful redhead in her mid-twenties, Ashes wasn't a frequent traveler, but the few times she'd ever flown were nothing but hours of racing heartbeats, sweaty palms, and a cacophony of words she'd babble nervously to anyone close enough to hear the sound of her voice. Today, the closest to her was a large, somewhat middle aged man with dark hair and a salt and pepper beard sitting in the seat next to her.
With all of the empty seats on the plane, the man could have had his choice of more comfortable places to fly, but instead decided to stay with what his ticket said, and Ashes was happy he'd had. His proximity gave her comfort, and his ear was too close to escape her nervous chatter.
"I hate flying," she blurted out, turning her crystal blue eyes up to the man. "I mean, I know it's supposed to be safer than driving, but to be honest, I don't care much for driving either."
Surprised, and a bit amused at the girl's nervous outburst, the man smiled kindly at her.
"Not to worry," he said. "I fly this route a couple of times a month, and there hasn't been so much as a delay, let alone a problem."
"Well, that' awful," Ashes said, her face a mask of new terror.
"I'm sorry?"
"If you fly this route that often, and there haven't been any issues," she said. "Doesn't that mean that you're due? I mean, doesn't the law of averages dictate there's a problem just waiting to happen?"
The man chuckled a deep, almost echoing chuckle. In the seconds he laughed, Ashes noted it sounded rich and full; it had both a pleasant and somatic effect on her ears, and it caused her to smile unknowingly.
"I'm Wayne," the man said, offering his hand. "Wayne Cohan; and you are?"
"Ashes," she said, her slender hand disappearing into his large palm. His grip was strong, but friendly and his hand warm and welcoming. Ashes almost sighed as he squeezed gently.
"What a lovely, intriguingly original name," he said, and his eyes smiled into hers. His eyes were of blue steel, and appeared as strong, yet as gentle as his hand. "What brings you to be flying today?"
"Wha...?" she asked. She knew he had asked something, but his words seemed to be slowly dripping into her ears -- like warm honey -- pleasing, comfortable and sweet. By the time the entire question wrapped itself around her brain, he had released her hand, and Ashes regained a sense of reality.
"Why are you flying today?"
"Oh," she exclaimed, a bit embarrassed. "My, um, my family hasn't seen me in a while. I wanted to surprise them with a visit."
"So, they don't know you're coming? How exciting," he said. "I'm sure your trip will be well worth it."
Suddenly, the cabin shook as the pilots tested the flaps and began their taxi towards take off. Ashes gasped, and her alabaster skin blanched even paler than normal. Instinctively, Wayne took her hand, and with his other hand, cradled the side of her face to comfort her.
"Shhhh," he said, looking deep into her eyes. "There's nothing to worry about. You are perfectly safe. You are perfectly safe, because you are with me."
His thumb made firm circles on her neck beneath her ear, and she leaned into it like a pillow. She was safe. His hand squeezed hers in a rhythm that encouraged...no...commanded her breathing and heart rate to slow and match it. His eyes opened wide enough for her to fall into their inviting blue depths. Slowly, her world became warm and safe. Safe...because she was with him.
