Chapter Text
As Annabeth flew into Chicago’s O’Hare airport, she was stunned by the ocean-sized lake on the edge of downtown. She looked around at the other passengers to see no one cared or bothered to pretend they did. And, yeah, she’d been told about the Great Lakes, but seeing them was something else entirely.
A voice took over the intercom, “we will be landing in ten short minutes, please fasten your seatbelt and prepare to touch ground. If you’re visiting, we hope you have a great stay.” He paused. “And if you’re like me, welcome home.”
The landing was the smoothest that Annabeth had ever experienced, which was saying a lot. A year ago, she decided to take a leave of absence from her accounting job to travel. She was originally from a small town in Rhode Island and wanted to see and experience different countries and major cities in the U.S. She’d been in Europe, Asia, the Caribbean, South America, and now she was back on domestic soil. Landings, no matter where, always sucked.
About two seconds after the plane came to a halt, people were standing and pushing their way to the overhead bins. Annabeth found the behavior to be tired and annoying, so she stayed seated in her window seat and waited for others to scramble. Unfortunately, she had underestimated how tired she was and how good her ability to fall asleep anywhere had become, because the next time she opened her eyes was when there were a pair of deep green eyes in front of her.
“Hey, um…” As Annabeth blinked herself into consciousness, she took in the man before her. He was wearing a crisp uniform and the radio chatter was faint on the speaker attached to his shirt. He scratched his neck uncomfortably. “I’m so sorry to wake you…” he paused, “ma’am-” then winced, “wait, not ma’am. We’re the same age. I’m sorry, it’s just-”
“Oh, my God.” Annabeth’s face was undoubtedly a bright red. “I must’ve fallen asleep, I’m so-”
“No, I’m sorry, we just. You know, we landed.”
She tried to get up before realizing her seatbelt was still on and slipped in her seat, letting out a humiliating squeal. As the pilot kept mumbling awkward apologies, Annabeth did her best to get out of there as fast as possible. It took like twenty years to unbuckle her seatbelt, but thankfully the pilot had already grabbed her carry-on from the bin.
“I didn’t want to be the annoying person that stands right after the flight,” she explained sheepishly. “But I’ve been much more annoying. I’m so sorry.”
He waved her off. “No, no. It’s not a bother, in fact I’m sorry. Usually, a flight attendant would’ve come for you and it would’ve been ten times less awkward.” Annabeth offered a laugh, but she still didn’t find the situation funny. It was too soon.
She said about three more embarrassing things before basically running down the aisle and sprinting away from the boarding area. The worst part, she thought, was that the pilot had been really cute.