Happiest birthday to THE most problematic fav. May you be showered with bad advice from Aaravos and an unholy amount of questions on wtf is going on from Claudia.
Description: Running into your high school classmate sure wasn’t in your plans for your business trip, and neither was sleeping on the terminal floor. Maybe his warm smile is enough to make you forgo more than just travel plans.
Warning: none
Word Count: 3.4k
Pairing:fem!reader x Bang Chan
“Good afternoon. May I interest you in one of our reds to— Y/N?”
You look up from your cold laptop to the flight attendant who had just gasped your name and see a dashing young man with blond hair, smiling warmly at you. “Yes, that’s me. How did you know?”
He chuckles and shifts the drink menu to his other arm. Below you, the jet engines rumble. “My name’s Chan. We took calculus together in high school.”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I don’t—”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t expect you to remember me. About the drinks, would you prefer a glass of apple juice instead? You always had a box in class.”
“I would, please. You have a good memory, Chan.”
He smiles knowingly, and you wonder what is going through his mind. He tells you, “You were the only junior in a senior class. It made you pretty memorable,” but you feel like that isn’t it.
His voice makes you panic. Your thumb presses the red button before you even know it, and you fling the device across the room. It skids across the marble floors, only stopping when it hits the leg of a couch.
Your heart’s pounding in your chest. Why did you do that? How could you have done that? Gingerly, you put one foot in front of the other and reach down to retrieve your phone and mentally slap yourself, vowing to never let yourself do that again.
You turn your phone on to access the damage only to be taunted by your call logs as soon as you do so. The familiar yet strange number stares at you from the top of the list. Hastily, you move to delete your history.
Settings.
Delete history.
‘Are you sure you want to delete your data? This action cannot be undone.’
Ye—
Your thumb lands on a black screen as the phone begins to vibrate from an incoming call. Those digits that make your heart run a marathon illuminate from your screen. Why is he calling? Surely, anyone would have thought a call like yours is from a stranger who dialed the wrong number.
Your pupils shake as you stare at the device. You’re unable to move, your previous resolve completely dissolving as you stare at the number and the possibilities it holds. After a while, the display switches to your lock screen that indicates a missed call. You stand frozen for a while longer until that switches off. You stare and stare at your reflection on that black glass with a blank mind. All cognitive processes have shut off the second you felt your phone vibrate in your hand. The only thing that brings you back is when the screen turns one one more time, this time showing that your missed call has been accompanied by a voicemail.
Tentatively, you will yourself to click into the notification. Your head spins and spins as you listen to the robotic woman inform you that you have a message. You can barely even see straight as you try to press “1” to retrieve it.
“First new message. Received today at 11:26 PM.”
“Hi.”
And suddenly, the world stood still. The second you heard his voice, it is as if life pressed “pause” on everything else but him. You feel a ringing in your head like the echo of a pin being dropped inside a large, empty glass vase. Your hands stop shaking and you stop breathing as you listen on.
“Hi. Yeah. I just got a call from this number, and I don’t know if you meant to call me or not, but, um, I’ve actually been waiting for a call from someone for a while now, but, uh, if you aren’t Y/N, please ignore me. But if you are, I’m really glad to hear from you. Even though I didn’t, you know, hear from you, haha. If it really is you, I hope you’ll call again. I’ll give you apple juice! You know us flight attendants; we’re always serving juice, aha. I’m sorry. That was lame. I don’t know what I’m doing. Like I said, I’ve been waiting for this call for a long time. I honestly thought that napkin is in some junkyard by now, so if you really aren’t Y/N, I’m sorry you had to listen to this. You must think I’m really weird. But if you by any impossible chance are, I just wanted to say… I miss you. I hope you’re doing well… you and your fiancé, whoever that is. That’s all. Call me… call me if you want apple juice. Or hibiscus tea. Okay. Good night, Y/N.”
