He knocked back his double Scotch and pulled down his eye mask. He adjusted the inflatable pillow around his neck, put on his headphones, and his forty winks began.

The plane was flying over the Atlantic Ocean.

He didn’t mind flying over land because he knew that if something went wrong with the plane, there was an almost total certainty that everyone inside would perish as soon as they touched the ground. His rational mind told him that the survival rate was probably about the same were the plane to fly into the ocean; his emotional mind wouldn’t allow him to think about anything other than his fall being cushioned, how he’d be forced to tread water until dehydration and exhaustion took hold, and how he’d experience the most painful minutes any person could.

Whiskey and sleep were his only friends ten kilometres above sea level.

A haze started to fill his head as his mind distanced from the cabin. He bolstered his sanity with classical music. He flew to places beyond the world he was physically in. He flew to places higher than the plane could reach. He dreamed a dream of land.

He dreamed of the town centre a walk of three hours away. Greetings cards and glow-sticks; wearing the outfit of a broken superhero, he met a girl from the gardens.

His mind started to wake; his eyelids refused to follow.

He drifted to a world where the halls were abandoned, and communication transcended time.

The captain’s voice brought him back; he asked the passengers to put on their seatbelts to prepare for landing. He told them that they may experience some slight turbulence, but it was nothing to worry about.

He’d been on a short trip for work. He wasn’t ever overjoyed by his job, but he wouldn’t complain about his life. With air in his lungs and light in his eyes, he loved every second of what he acknowledged as a gift. He was in love with the world. His job permitted him to frequently traverse different parts of the globe; all bought and paid for.

The only thing that haunted him was the unstable romantic waters he had to navigate. His schedule didn’t permit many ties, and he was often tormented by the invasive demon of loneliness.

Abby was his present interest; he couldn’t wait to get home to her house. He craved being curled up and comfy with her, binge-watching mediocre films and drinking mulled wine. It was the early evening in mid-winter; it was the most perfect time of year to crawl into her bed and not leave until the blanket of darkness outside lifted.

He was a financially wealthy businessman living life at speed; she was an artist that had spent most of her adult years surviving.

She was everything he wasn’t; she was his dream and his reality.

He often forgot how to see physical beauty, but she could always jog his memory.

Like every woman he’d given a portion of his life to, she sent his head and his heart into battle with one another. His heart told him about how perfect she was, and that they’d live happily ever after if they could; his head reminded him that she isn’t the first and probably won’t be the last woman to awaken him in such a way.

He wanted her. He missed her. He needed her.

He got off the plane, left the airport, and got a taxi to Abby’s house.

The driver filled the void in his vehicle with mandatory chat. He asked what he did for a living, where he’d been, what for, and other seemingly obligatory questions for taxi drivers working on airport collections.

He played his part in the conversation with a mechanical charm, as if his responses weren’t pre-planned. His mind was elsewhere, allowing nothing but the thought of Abby and the physical connection they would soon be sharing to pass through it. The taxi pulled up outside her house.

After using the copy of her key that she had given to him, he closed the front door quietly after he entered. He crept along the hallway and to the kitchen. As soon as he saw her, he was powerless to oppose the inevitable burst of passion that commandeered his body.

Not much could change in a handful of days and not much did; familiarity was the comfort blanket he needed to warm him.

His lips pressed against hers, and he was reminded of the first time he kissed her; he was a firm believer in absence making the heart grow fonder. He lifted her in his arms and carried her upstairs.

His trip was only for one night, and he didn’t have much time for the pursuit of pleasure, so he was sure to show Abby just how much he missed her.

He couldn’t even wait long enough to take off his clothes. He laid her onto her bed and lowered himself onto and into her; he nestled into her neck and anchored his fingers in her hair.

He was in love with her wavy mane of red locks; he adored the way it caught the sunlight and radiated a glow that was somewhere between gold and bronze, but a thousand times more precious.

He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. With a reserved intensity, he squeezed her thighs and pushed himself further into her as an audible moan fell out of his mouth. His hands stroked upwards across her curves; his fingertips became re-acquainted with her skin.

He gripped her upper arms as if it was their first night with one another, and her head fell back like she was trying to throw it off her shoulders; the outline of her body and mass of hair caught the streetlight as it trickled through the thin opening of her curtains.

She rolled off him and into his arms.

Abby’s scent filled the room, and he felt like he couldn’t ever be happier than he was in that moment.

Her head rested on his chest; it was difficult for him to not form a bond with her when they could so effortlessly transition from such intensity to stillness and peace. She was his best of both worlds.

He knew he’d have to return to his grind in the morning, but he wanted to spend the rest of his life in her bed, exploring her physicality and whispering grandiose promises in her ear. He wanted to be lost in her sea, then be beached on her paradise.

He lifted her head and gave her his lips. He was on her again before long, almost with a determination to outdo the previous effort.

He drifted to a world where his ego was absent, and his love eclipsed the world. Elated higher than ecstasy, he remembered why the noise of life didn’t matter when he was with her.

She fell next to him and their limbs tangled together.

Near silence thickened the air around them. The only thing that hung in the darkness was the sound of his breathing.