The Hybrid's Luna

Airports. I despise them with a vengeance.

I'm walking around the room in a daze, almost like a robot. My brain directs my motions, yet it hardly registers the flurry of activity around me.

I sat at the end of my parents' bed, grasping the covers hard, one hour until we departed for the airport. In their will, they had left me a letter, which I chose to read this morning. My sobbing had been muffled by my palm, but my eyes were clouded with tears as they took in every word. My mother's writing was familiar, as was the small lipstick kiss she put at the bottom of the page. The letter advised me to stay strong in the event that something bad happened to them.

My parents died in a vehicle accident a month ago. My life was flipped completely upside down after that. My life was flipped completely upside down after that. My new guardians, who are really practically second parents to me; family and friends, are relocating me to a place just outside of New York, New York. I'm starting a new school in a completely other nation, thousands of miles away from my homeland, the United Kingdom. Perhaps this will be beneficial to me, given how depressed I've been since their death.

I tuck the note into my backpack and walk out the door, pledging to try to be as joyful as they indicated in the letter. Regrettably, it did not last long.

As soon as I got into the building, I transform into a bitter grumpy old man who prefers to board a plane and fly instead of going through the security process. Despite knowing how critical it is, I still yearn to be sitting on a jet far above the clouds.

When I passed through the alarm, it beeps loudly, making me flush in humiliation as the security guard backs me up. The woman patiently waits as I examine my possessions tray for anything I may have forgotten, only to discover that my anklet is still on. I remove it while apologizing and passing through, relieved that now the security system did not go off again.

"Idiot." Chris  smiles and rolls his eyes as he stands by me as we gather our bags.

smiles and rolls his eyes as he stands by me as we gather our bags. , who were close friends with my parents, have taken over as my new guardians. Chris Winks  is their kid, and he reminds me of an elder brother. After years of spending summers in either Usa or the United Kingdom, we are quite close.

"It's always me." I sigh, my rucksack slung across my shoulders.

We begin walking toward our destination, pausing for a few minutes to browse the stores before continuing. All is fine...until I misplace Chris amid the throngs of people rushing to catch planes or browsing in stores. I scan the area in a panic, hoping to spot him because I'm not sure which terminal we're meant to be in. Chris  insisted on removing my boarding card and passport, claiming they would be safer in his travel wallet. I'm strolling past a restaurant and into another terminal, determining that if I can't find Chris in the next five minutes, I'll request assistance from airport personnel.

"I'm so sorry!" I screamed when I collided with a man and turn to face him.

"Everything's OK, babe." He slurs and wraps his arm around my waist.

As his hand presses my bum, my eyes lit up in surprise before my face shifts to disdain.

"What exactly are you up to? Leave me alone!"

When I wriggle in his grip, he grins and curls his palm around my fist as I try to punch him. Instead, as he attempts to drag me towards the restrooms, he mumbles something incoherent.

"Get a grip, dude, this is an airport!" I grunt and kick his leg, but it does nothing but slow him down. "Look, I'm not scared to smack you in the face. This is your final warning; please let me go immediately!"

I'm digging my nails into his hand, kicking and pushing myself away, doing all I can to get him to release go of me. People are strolling by, but because we are in a corner, no one appears to notice or disregard what is going on. I called for assistance, hoping that someone would come and lift him off of me because he's putting the whole of his weight on me.

Distressed, I release one of my hands from his tight grasp and forcibly pushed him backwards. He stutters and cries out, giving me the opportunity to turn and walk away from him. However, I hear pounding footsteps behind me, causing my eyesight to enlarge as I can see him chasing after me.

Just before I reach the restrooms, I break into a sprint and turn left, disappearing into the enormous and bustling mass of hurried individuals. I skid to a halt outside of the doors and realize I must make a decision. Either use the women's restroom, where I, as a woman, belong, or use the men's restroom, where a woman has no place.

This will be a hard choice to make.

As he comes around the corner, I hear his familiar voice, slightly slurred, and I'm shocked he's made it this far. I burst into the men's restroom and gently lock the door behind me, turning around and smirking when I realize the room is empty of males. I look through the slightly open door and witness the inebriated man walk right inside the women's restroom with a triumphant smile, assuming I'll be there.

I'm ready to step out when I hear girlish shouts and obscenities, and he dashes out the door and into the men's bathroom. I hurry into the closest stall, close the door, and press my face against the steel surface. I grin at the man before running, turning my head to lay my ear against the door. When he cuts me off by placing his palm over my lips, my eyes bulge and my mouth opens to scream.

It was as if time stands still, and what I see is him, with his lovely tan skin and sharp, angular features that appear to have been sculpted to perfection by the Lord above. What used to be a slim nose has become somewhat crooked, most likely due to a break. He has a smidgeon of stubble, which just adds to his charm. As he glances down at me with a mix of astonishment and horror in his sparkling green eyes, his pink lips are pinched into a scowl, dark brown brows that matches his unkempt hair twisted in uncertainty.

I blinked gently, as if to break myself from the hypnosis I'm in, and stare down at his hand before returning my gaze to his spotty green eyes. My body is feeling as if it has been shocked by lightning, with a million sparks buzzing beneath the region where his hand rests on my waist.

Before moving his hand down all the way to his side, I wrap my fingers round his wrist, sighing silently as additional tingles flash through my arm. As he stands there, peering down at me, his eyes following my every motion, his lips squeezed together. A long moment ensues, with both of us looking at one other. I can't take my eyes away from him for the life of me; it's as if there's some string tied to him that I'm clinging onto. Something obviously right and a string that throbs with energy. It's difficult to put into words how I felt.

A glimpse of a smile flashes across his lips, but it's only momentary; perhaps it was just my imagination. Our feet cross as he takes a step back to lean against a wall while I lean against another and. I turned my head to the right slightly as I frown at him, as if he's a conundrum I'm attempting to solve. His arms bulge and strain against his black leather jacket, which is layered over a black shirt that adheres to his skin and reveals the contours of his abs. I observe a black coiled rope-like thread around his neck, the necklace buried beneath the protection of his garments but the distorted shape evident enough.

He's an Olympian who exudes raw masculinity and makes me yearn for his hands to touch my flesh once again. No! Crazy thought ! I chastise myself, but it's pointless since my head is still full of filthy ideas. Returning my gaze to him, I observe his eyes quietly roving my physique from top to bottom, as if scrutinizing me.

The first thing he says to me in his lovely, velvety voice that sends thrills down my body is, "Women's bathroom is on the right."

I shiver and grimace before cracking a shaky smile. "I'm trying to get away from an intoxicated man." "Don't you think the women's restroom is a little too obvious?" "Why then are you whispering?" I silence him and give him a scowl when he asks a bit too loudly.

Suddenly, the male's bathroom's door bursts open, and pairs of strong footsteps dashed in. "Because of that, fool!" I crossed my arms as glare at him, disgusted, before pointing to the door and saying, "Because of that, moron!" He rolls his eyes before walking forward and grabbing my waist with both hands, lifting me up and depositing me on the toilet's closed lid with a finger to his lips. I narrowed my eyes towards him before settling on the tank's lid, a shudder running down my spine from the terrible sparks.

My hand unconsciously holds his wrist in dread as I try to listen, hearing who I know is the intoxicated man open each and every stall. As his steps get closer to this stall, it's like a ticking clock of my approaching fate. I looked down at his thumb, which is massaging little, calming circles onto my skin to help me relax. I look up at him, smiling at the gesture, and take in his shaded features as he glances back at the door before returning his attention to mine. When the man's footsteps stop exactly outside our stall and he giggles, I quickly turn away and hold my breath.

"Bitch, what I need now is a blowjob. I'm sure you're inside, so come on out." I shiver in revulsion as the intoxicated man slurs.

"There's no female here,".  Rattling laughter erupts from the opposite side as the man in the stall next to me answers as he yells out.

"I bet she's inside," says the drunkard. "Just give her to me when you're through, I'll wait."

"I warned you she wasn't here,". "Look someplace else." He snarls at me, almost heartlessly, and I recoil in amazement.

"Alright, come out and show she's not in there,". Why isn't this drunken leaving me alone? I believe he is fast sobering up.

He glances down at me with a 'He's gonna find you' expression on his face. In a panic, I bite my lower lip and scan the stall, as if the solution is scrawled on its walls. I capture his attention by smiling broadly and pointing to my belly before squeezing my fists, nodding to the toilet, and bringing my palms outwards as if an explosion had occurred. I smack his chest and narrow my eyes at him in warning as he shakes his head forcefully.

I keep compelling him to shake his head with my gaze before curling my hands to fists and pretending to cry.

He didn't take it lightly and shoves me, forcing me to bite my lower lip to conceal the boiling scream and grab his jacket so I don't fall.

He breathes deeply before forcibly clamping his lips together. "I can't," says the narrator. "And how the heck not?' says the narrator. "Severe vomiting".  When I clap my hands over my lips and conceal my laughing, he mutters back, frowning at me.

"fine!" "I'm not hearing anything." The inebriated man scoffs and nearly whines. "She's nothing out of the ordinary, simply -"

When the man who towering above me begins to shake, his fists clinched, I freeze. He opens the door and throws a punch at the man before delivering a hard roundhouse kick that sends him flying into a neighboring wall. With horrified eyes, I witnessed as he beats the alcoholic, who has no hope with his weak strikes, eventually collapsing unconscious and bleeding on the floor.

As I emerge from the cubicle, I stare at the guy, who only straightens his shirt before crossing his arms. He hadn't even gotten a smidgeon of a sweat! The quiet fills the room as green eyes lock on mine and gaze back. I'm jumping on my feet with a giggle where he's calm.

''That. Was. Great!" I scream, watching as he shakes his head and a slow grin grows across his lips.

"I'm glad you like it, Mi Hermosa Dama.  Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" (My Beautiful Lady.)

"Bella - what are you talking about?" I was looking for my terminal when I came across him. He began waking me up and hauling me to the restroom to perform whatever it was he was doing." My foot nudges the injured man.

When I return my gaze, his eyes were darken, his fists tightened, and his face has taken on an angry expression. He's trembling a little, which makes me nervous about the unexpected turn of events. Why is he so enraged? I thought.

In any case, he's a hottie, so I can't say I'm complaining.

''He. Touched. You?!'' The guy snarls and growls.

I nod slowly, little disturbed by how brutal his voice has become. The man slams his fist on the wall and exhales heavily. I consider whether I should go or stay as I approach the main door. It's an internal conflict that lasts a few minutes until I ultimately sigh and step over the alcoholic to approach him. I'm yelling at myself to cease, that I don't recognize him but should not be doing this, but my feet have other ideas and keep moving ahead.

I put it on that awful pull that keeps pulling me towards him, pushing me to accept that I don't enjoy seeing him angry.

I turned him around, holding his arm, to see his eyes shut and tightened lips. I'm instantly dragged into his hug when he lets out a sigh. I encircle his neck with my arms, petting my cheek onto his thick leather of his jacket, feeling every inch of him against me. He wraps his arms round my waist, skimming the curve of my neck with the tip of his nose and inhaling deeply.

(Me temo que no podré hacerlo de nuevo. Mi dulce señora, ¿por qué me torturas así?) His voice is raspy as he whispers wordlessly. (I'm afraid I won't be able to do it again. My sweet Lady, why are you torturing me like this?)

Before shaking it off, I frown and wonder what language he talked in. As I pull away, I see how reluctant he is to release me as his fingers tighten around my waist. I grin up at him, smoothing up my sweater.

"A hug per day puts the doctor far away," I add as I turn around and return to the main entrance.

"Uh...I believe that it is an apple a day." No?''

I raise my eyebrows as I pivot. "My embrace saved your knuckles from turning bleeding, thus anything I say is true." Now, Agent Bond, let's go. I need to get on a plane."

I step out the door and watch as two lads come to a halt when they spot me. When I turn around to see the man brushing down his jacket before glancing up towards me and the two lads, his eyes narrow as I wriggle my brows and grin. As he attempts to explain, his mouth was open and shuts like a fish, his hands waving madly, until he glares towards me, grips the outside of my elbow, and pushes me forward. Before releasing myself and striding ahead of him, I giggle.

"We need to locate airport security and inform them of the situation." He mutters as he scans the area for any trace of them.

I instantly nod, indicating that I want that man dealt with. Who gets that intoxicated at an airport but also begins acting that obnoxiously? Disgusted by his actions, I thought to myself. We eventually find two guards, and I narrate what occurred to them. One of them instantly directs me to an office, while the other departs to locate the man in the lavatory where we had left him.

Before we could turn to the second guard, who carries the unconscious alcoholic in and sits him in a chair, the security personnel checks the film of the locations I pointed out to him. We make things straight once he regains consciousness, and security apologizes to me before escorting the man into one of their waiting rooms where he's being dealt with appropriately.

Before we depart, I thanked the guards and turn to face the man behind me, who is already looking at me in disbelief. When he finds me gazing at him, he clears his throat, his eyes concentrating on something or someone behind me then finally settling on me.

"I'd best get moving; I need to locate my flight before it departs." I smile and take a step back.

Before taking a step forward, he looks down at the activity. "Have you got your ticket? If so, I might be able to assist you."

"That's the issue; my buddy took it along with him." I sigh and shrug, realizing that I could have requested those two guards for assistance.

"Where are you going?"

"New York, United States of America. I'm about to take out from JFK Airport." I bite my lower lip in fear, knowing I've already squandered time.

"Come on, I'll show you where it is." When I thank him, he gives me a little smile.

I discover the Valentines after glancing up at signage, marveling at the various boutiques, and inadvertently stepping into a terminal for Switzerland departures.

I discover the Winks after glancing up at signage, marveling at the various boutiques, and inadvertently stepping into a line for Switzerland departures. They haven't seen me yet, though. While Chris' girlfriend, Linda, was interacting with a staff worker, Elizabeth and William are worriedly talking to him.

I came to a halt and turned to see the man behind me, who appears to be deep in concentration. I watch as he breaks out of it and stares down at me with wonder, waiving a hand across his eyes.

"I need to get going right now, so thank you for assisting me in finding it." I give a cheeky smile as I back away.

"Stop," he says as he grabs my arm. "How come I don't even have a name?"

"Whose?" I inquire, puzzled.

He chuckles, and the sound makes me swoon. "Who else is yours?"

"Oh!" My cheeks burst into flames in an instant. Right now, I want to hit myself in the face. "Amanda Thomas. What about yours?"

"Gabriel Silva."

I give him a kind nod and say, "It's wonderful to meet you," before slipping free of his grip and backing away. I say my goodbyes and begin walking towards where the others are waiting, but refused turning around to see him one more time. He was standing there with a grimace on his face, watching me walk away as a blonde-haired man walks up behind him and grabs his shoulder. Before proceeding, I grin and wave.

"Hello!" I wave as I sprint over to the family, who exhale a sense of relief upon seeing me.

"I'm really sorry I got you mixed up." Gabriel whispers and pulls me into an embrace.

"It's perfectly just as much as you didn't leave me behind." I make a joke that gets a few laughs.

Before sitting near his lover, he shakes his head. When my father and William did business together a few years ago, I met Chris through him. I was twelve years old at the time, and Chris had just turned thirteen. We hit it off right away, with him assuming the role of older sibling because I was an only kid. He's been quite protective of me in the past, but it's a long story.

I crossed my legs and grin at the others before staring out the enormous window where the aircraft is being cleansed and examined in preparation for yet another voyage. And I wonder, with a start, if I'll ever see that gorgeous man again, or when I'll learn what he had said in that other tongue. My whole body is still ablaze from the effects of his touch, and I don't think I'll ever forget about him.