The first rays of sunlight cut through the darkness outside the large windows, the bright, sterile lights above soon to be turned off when dawn would break. You could already see the sky changing colors as you waited for your flight at the gate, cradling a warm paper cup of coffee.

You usually didn’t mind red-eye flights - you couldn’t really, since you had chosen to get the job - but some days were harder than others. The other people in the small waiting area were all either sleeping or barely conscious, except for one man, his brown eyes sharp and vigil, fingers tapping against his luggage in an impatient rhythm.

Once you were called to board your flight, you recognized the same head of dirty blonde hair making his way down the corridor. You tried not to look at the way his biceps swelled when he lifted his case to put it in the overhead compartment, and you also had to pretend to be very curious about the choice of beverages and snacks - as if you didn’t already know them by heart - in the magazine between your hands.

When he sat up right next to you, you knew it was going to be a very long flight. Of course, it was better than being seated with a crying child, someone with an uncontrollable cough or an annoying senior citizen, but having to force yourself not to look at that handsome man for the next five hours was going to be a challenge.

Luckily, the sky starting to get dusted in pink and orange hues provided a great distraction, albeit not for long. The hour was easy, nose buried deep in your book, music playing in your headphones. Then, a small tap on your shoulder– “Need anything?” the man asked, head tilted in the direction of the snacks cart. And from then, you just started talking.

Conversation flowed easily, from small talk about each other - Simon Riley was his name - to him making a joke about the man on the row of seats on the other side of the corridor sleeping with his mouth open, coaxing a laugh from you that made his eyes soften.

Before you knew it, you landed at the next airport, and found out that he had to catch your same connecting flight, too. You had been traveling alone for years, but having a buddy wasn’t so bad, after all. Your flight wasn’t for another two hours, so you grabbed lunch together.

When you went to check your flight again, your face paled: it had been delayed until the next morning. Simon cursed, excusing himself to make a call, and so did you, updating your boss and explaining you were going to be dangerously behind on schedule.

You were sure your paths were going to separate for the day, until he suggested sharing a hotel room for the night. “We can split the costs,” he said. “It’s more convenient to stick together, anyway.”

You awkwardly lingered in his general vicinity as he called hotel after hotel. The delayed flight was a rather big one, so it had created an inconvenience to a lot of people. Luckily, you were able to find a room, so you decided to head there immediately to leave your luggage.

“You said you asked for two beds?” You inquired, looking at the king sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. “I– fuck, yeah I did!” Simon groaned behind you, clearly pissed and making a beeline for the service phone. “No can do,” he hung up with a resigned sigh. “Guess I’ll sleep on the floor.”