cara mia || tommyinnit

xxiii

"I know they're bad for the economy, but there's no other way to get a plane to Georgia on such short notice," Chiara commented as they boarded her jet. Tommy followed shortly behind her, holding the air behind her back as she walked up the plane's stairs.

"Don't sweat it, Sunbeam," he reassured. "It's not like I haven't been on a private jet before. I have worked with the Sidemen and Mr. Beast, after all." She rolled her eyes as they boarded.

Security lined the plane in replace of flight attendants as they chose two seats directly in the middle of the jet.

Chiara sat in the seat facing the opposite direction of the plane's movement while Tommy sat the right-of-way. There was a long table in front of them with enough space for both of them to do their own things.

Tommy unpacked his book bag for his laptop and mouse when he turned to see Chiara admiring the plane. Her eyes darted from thing to thing in rapid motion as she whispered something to herself.

"Are you... examining the plane?" he asked, making her eyes shoot to the boy in front of her in shock. "Isn't this your plane?"

She smiled sheepishly. "I don't use it that much."

"Really? Knowing me, I'd constantly travel the world if I had a jet of my own."

"It's 'cause I'm..." Chiara trailed off, her voice growing shallow. "...kinda afraid of flying? It's dumb, but it just stresses me out. I tend to drive if I need to travel any distance."

Tommy's posture straightened. "We can drive, y'know. Georgia's probably not that far-"

"It's a 14-hour drive, Simons," she cut off. His eyes darted open as he sunk into the seat.

"Jesus, America is large." He shook his head nonetheless. "It's fine! We can make it work. I don't want you to-"

"Tommy, I'll be okay," she interrupted, putting her hand over his. He stared at her touch before she gently moved away. "Just because I don't like it doesn't mean I don't do it. I travel constantly for work, and I go on tour in a few months. You don't have to worry about me." She smiled, and even with the dense feeling of worry in the back of his brain, her smile put him at ease. "I want you to have fun in America. There's not much to do here, so let's make your stay worthwhile."

"As long as I'm with you," he hummed in agreement before looking out the window to his right.

A security guard/flight attendant came up to them with a grin on her face. She had long ginger hair and a freckle on the top of her lip.

"Anything to drink?' she asked. Before Chiara could process what was being asked, Tommy chirped up instantly.

"Strawberry mojito for her and a peach gin tonic for me, thanks," he requested. The girl nodded before walking away without ID-ing them.

"You remembered?" Chiara asked as she watched Tommy casually open his laptop like it was nothing.

"Why shouldn't I?"

The girl didn't respond and only pulled out a notebook, her phone, headphones, and a gel pen. In the corner of Tommy's eye, he eyed the girl as she scrolled through Spotify.

After a few seconds of scrolling, she huffed in frustration before sliding her phone toward the boy watching. "Pick a random song. Any genre besides EDM, please."

He blinked before taking her phone and scrolling. Her music taste varied from The Sex Pistols to Claude Debussy to Lana Del Ray, which threw him off. He scrolled for a good 3 minutes before tossing the phone back.

She checked it to see a song called "P.S. I LOVE YOU" by Paul Partohap pulled up. She looked up to see him avoiding her gaze, ears red. Her heart skipped a beat at the idea of him trying to subliminally send her a message through the title but, afraid to let her delusions get the best of her, she ignored it and brought her headphones over her ears. She wrote the title of the song and the date before hitting play.