You looked peaceful. Too peaceful to be bothered by the world, by me—sleeping soundly, a soft pout adoring your lips. The plane hummed softly like a gentle lullaby that seemed to cradle you in your sleep. The sunlight filtered through the tiny oval window, touching your face in soft, warm strokes.

You look so divinely beautiful. The features of your face relaxed as you sleep, giving away those subtle vulnerabilities you rarely showed when awake. The tension that usually marked your brow was gone, replaced by something tender, almost fragile. My heart ached with a blend of love and guilt. I reached out, my fingers gently brushing a lock of hair from your forehead.

Outside, the world was a blanket of clouds, vast and endless, painted in an endearing soft blue. It felt like we were suspended between worlds, leaving one behind and yet to land in another. But the past is never truly left behind, is it? It's always there, lurking, waiting to catch up.

The soft ding of the announcement bell snapped me out of my reverie. A flight attendant's calm, practiced voice came over the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now beginning our descent into Milan Malpensa Airport. The local time is 3:45 PM, and the weather is currently a pleasant 22 degrees Celsius with clear skies. We expect to be on the ground in approximately 15 minutes. Please ensure your seat belts are fastened, your seat backs and tray tables are in their upright and locked positions, and all electronic devices are switched to aeroplane mode. On behalf of the captain and the entire crew, we'd like to thank you for flying with us today."

It felt like a sin to disturb you, to break this fleeting moment of peace. And as much as I wanted to keep you in this bubble of calm, I knew we couldn't stay here forever. I gently squeezed your shoulder, the warmth of your skin grounding me. 

"Ahen, we're here."

You stirred, slowly coming to, your eyes fluttering open. For a moment, you looked disoriented, as if you'd forgotten where we were, what we were doing. But then your gaze found mine, and a slow smile spread across your lips, a smile that made everything else fade away.

"Already?" you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep.

I nodded. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, already."

You stretched, your hand slipping into mine. In no time the plane began its descent, the clouds giving way to the sprawling city below. I held onto that moment, onto you, hoping it would be enough to carry us through whatever came next.

We were running away, yes. From your family, from my past, from everything that had tried to keep us apart. But we were also running towards something—towards a life that was ours, where we could be who we truly were, together. I squeezed your hand, my heart pounding—and I wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement. 

The future was a vast, open sky, and we were soaring into it, hand in hand, not knowing where we'd land but knowing we'd be alright as long as we had each other.

The moment we stepped off the plane, your energy spiked up. 

The airport was alive with motion, a symphony of people coming and going, voices blending in a dozen languages. Sunlight poured through the tall glass windows, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The architecture was stunning, all sweeping curves and sleek lines like a modern cathedral. Green plants lined the walkways, their vibrant leaves a refreshing contrast to the polished stone floors. 

Your enthusiasm made sense. It was hard to be all moody and grumpy in a place like this. Your hand slipped from mine, only to tug me forward as you dashed ahead, your laughter trailing behind like a melody I couldn't resist.

You insisted on taking photos at every turn, capturing the moment with the small camera you had insisted on bringing. It was one of those instant film cameras, the kind that produced pictures you could hold in your hand seconds after taking them. Each snap was followed by the soft whirring sound of the film developing, and then you'd wave the photo in the air, eager to see the image come to life. You were like a child discovering the world for the first time, and your joy was infectious.

"Come here, you've got to see this!" you called, dragging me toward a massive, abstract sculpture that dominated one of the halls. It was all polished metal and glass, reflecting the light in a way that made it seem almost alive. You posed in front of it, a playful grin on your face, and I couldn't help but smile as I watched you.

But was this happy you I was seeing real? As much as I loved seeing you this happy, I couldn't shake the nagging thought that maybe this wasn't just excitement. Maybe there was something more beneath the surface—an anxiousness, a flicker of fear that you were trying to outrun with those loud giggles. Your eyes were bright, too bright, and I was afraid it wasn't how you really felt inside. We both were humans after all. You are a little braver, a lot stronger than I was. But still it was hard to keep myself from thinking that this joy you were showing me was just a mask for everything you didn't want to tell me about how you feel.

You caught me staring and stuck your tongue out at me, snapping another photo, this time of me standing there, lost in thought. The camera clicked, and you handed me the photo with a mischievous smile. I probably looked like a deer caught on headlights in that one.

"Don't look so serious," you teased, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "We're free, remember?"

I nodded, pocketing the photo. I did look like a startled deer, brows raised  pupils dilated. "Yeah, we are." I tried to smile. 

We wandered through the airport, your hand in mine again, stopping at little shops and cafes, marvelling at the blend of cultures and styles. You pointed out every little detail, from the intricate mosaic tiles on the floor to the way the light filtered through the ceiling, creating patterns on the walls. Your enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself laughing along with you in the end, letting go of the worries that had been weighing me down.

But every so often, when you thought I wasn't looking, I caught that flicker in your eyes again—the amber flame of uncertainty, burning quietly behind your smile. It made my heart ache, because I knew it mirrored my own. We were happy, yes, but we were running away and the past has a way of catching on. We still had so much unknown ahead of us, so much we had to face.

It still felt surreal that you had accepted my offer, that you were really here with me. You had a perfect life back there, a life your mum had meticulously built for you, shaping you into someone who fit her ideal. And for a while, I thought you'd stay in that world, that you'd choose the life she'd crafted over the uncertain path I offered.

We'd been through such a rough patch, the kind that leaves scars even after the wounds have closed. For a moment, I was terrified that I'd lost you forever, that I'd have to walk this path alone, carrying the weight of your memory. I thought you'd forgotten me. Or worse, that you were capable of doing so. I imagined you slipping back into that perfect life, the one where I didn't fit, where there was no room for us. The thought of it was unbearable, of losing you to a world that wasn't ours.

But you proved me wrong.

As much as I wanted you with me, you wanted me with you. Despite everything that had happened, every shadow of doubt and every harsh word, you trusted me with your heart, your future, with everything.

That night after the performance, everything changed. I knew your mum wouldn't let you go without a fight, but I wasn't prepared for how far she'd go. I saw it in your eyes, the fear and the dread you'd carried all this time, finally coming to life.

And that's when you saw a side of me you hadn't seen before. I'd been holding it back, trying to keep that part of me hidden because I didn't want to scare you, didn't want you to think that I was anything like the people you'd run from. But when it came to protecting you, to keeping us together, I couldn't hold it back anymore.

We still had to talk about it. It wasn't going to be an easy conversation. There was so much you didn't know about me, so much I had kept hidden behind the music, behind the notes that flowed from my fingers. I wasn't just a pianist, not just the man you thought you knew. My life wasn't simple, and neither was I. I wasn't just black and white, like the keys I played. In fact, I was more black than the white I tried to paint over it, and even that white could barely shade the grey here and there.

There were things I hadn't told you, things that darkened the picture you had of me. And yet, despite everything, you stood by me, your hand in mine. It was as if you could see through the layers of darkness, through the shadows I'd tried so hard to hide. You didn't flinch, didn't waver. Instead, you held on tighter, as if you were telling me that no matter what, you weren't going anywhere.

"I'm glad we're doing this," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the airport. There was a vulnerability in your words, a quiet strength that made my chest tighten with emotion.

I kissed the top of your head, my lips brushing against your soft hair. "Me too," I replied, tightening my arm around you. We were here, wherever here was. We had left so much behind, and yet there was still so much ahead, so much we needed to face.

"I want some chocolate."

"Hm?" I turned to you, caught off guard by the sudden craving.

"Chocolate. It feels like I could do with some almond chocolate right now."

You glanced around, scanning the airport for anything that might satisfy your sweet tooth. A small shop nestled between a bookstore and a café, its display filled with rows of chocolates in every variety seemed to invite you just right.

"I mean, I taste better..." I teased, raising an eyebrow and flashing a playful grin.

"Mhm? But I want chocolate." You looked at me with a playful pout, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Sure, sure, why not."

Laughing, you grabbed my hand, dragging me in the direction of the chocolate shop. Your laughter echoed in the open space, a sound that felt as sweet as the treat you were craving. We made our way to the shop, the aroma of chocolate wrapping around us like a warm hug. You didn't hesitate, your eyes lighting up as you scanned the display, pointing out different bars and truffles, as if each one was a treasure waiting to be discovered. I watched you, unable to hide my smile, as you carefully selected a bar of white chocolate, your excitement contagious.

It was endearing how something as simple as a craving could spark such joy, and it reminded me of how important it was to embrace these little moments of happiness. The future was going to come anyway, and just lying paralysed with fear wasn't going to change anything. We had made our choice knowing they were followed by consequences. We made the choice to face whatever came next together. And we needed to make the most of every moment we had. I had you here with me, and that's what mattered.

I handed the cashier a few euros and took the small bag, passing it to you with a flourish. "Your chocolate, monsieur," I said, bowing slightly.

You chuckled, accepting the bag with a dramatic curtsy. "Merci, monsieur."

We left the shop, and you immediately tore open the wrapper, breaking off a piece and feeding it to me. I let it melt on my tongue devouring the sweet, creamy, and comfort. You broke off a piece of chocolate for yourself, popping it into your mouth. Your eyes closed as you savoured the taste, a contented smile spreading across your lips. I couldn't help but feel a swell of affection as I watched you, so happy over something so simple. Our eyes met, and we shared a quiet smile

We were stepping into the unknown, and it wasn't going to be easy. There were still shadows to confront, truths to share, and challenges we hadn't even imagined. But with you by my side, I felt a glimmer of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

Maybe the black and white of our lives would start to blend, and we'd find a new colour, something as beautiful as the blue of the vast sky we'd flown through to get here.