I stared numbly at the tiles of the airport, exhausted from the long wait. My flight had just gotten delayed for the second time today, and I had to wait for another four hours. It was about 2 am, and all I wanted was to be in a decent bed, with my bags put down, and my shoes finally taken off. My head hurt and my legs felt like they were speed defrosted. I decided to find a place near the window facing the runway and sit down.

After shoving my backpack into a seat, I rubbed my tired eyes, curled up and fell asleep. I was soon woken up, though, by the rumbling in my own stomach and a heavier migraine.

You know how stomachs are shown in cartoons when the characters are hungry or in grade school science textbooks? They're completely empty, just a bean-shaped figure colored a dull, brownish-red with two thin tubes on either end. That was how I felt, like there was nothing in my stomach. I remember seeing the wrinkly insides that made me lose my appetite when I was a little older, but that didn't matter, even if the image came back into my mind. I was tired, hungry, and sleepy. Full package.

I looked in my bag, in my pockets, in my bag again, under the chairs, but I didn't find my wallet. I would have groaned in frustration, but there were other people around and I didn't want to worry more. I finally caught a glimpse of it from the corner of my eye, the slightly faded white standing out.

It was in the hands of a boy about my age, with headphones pushed down and ruffled brown hair. Two seats were between us, one taken by my bags and the other taken by his.

I sighed quietly, gathering my energy. I sat down and faced him, resting my chin on my crossed arms and resting my arms on my bags. "Hey," I called, my voice papery with exhaustion.

The boy flinched, nearly dropping my dropping my wallet. A receipt fell out. "Hi." He avoided my eyes.

"That's mine," I said simply, glancing at it. Maybe I would have freaked out or grabbed it, but maybe I was also to drained to care.

The boy looked tired too. His thick sweatshirt was wrinkled and he didn't bother to untangle the cord of his headphones, even when they got stuck on one of the zippers on his bag. He sighed as well and tossed the wallet. "Yeah, sorry. Here."

I picked it up off the floor with drooping eyelids. "When's your flight?" I asked.

He ran a hand through his curls. "I actually have no idea at this point. Got delayed again," He groaned. "What about you?"

"Delayed as well. Twice," I added, the emptiness in my stomach starting to feel painful. "I'm so tired."

"Same," He replied. I made up my mind, stood up, stretched, got my smaller bag and headed towards a food stall. "Hey, where 're you going?" He asked, holding my wrist.

"To get food. I'm hungry and I can't sleep or function at all if I don't get a snack."

"Well, can I bring you there? Go with you?"

I raised a brow. "How do I know you're not gonna murder me and stuff my corpse in a janitor's closet?"

He laughed, amused. "Please? I'm hungry too. If you want I can give you a Swiss Knife to stab me with in case things get out of hand."

"No thanks."

"So can I go with you?"

I tugged on his sleeve. "Yeah, let's go."

We ended up at a hotdog stall, but there was only one kind, and he was allergic to that.

"Let's get noodles. I'm getting some for you too," He said. Even though he was tall, he still had to stand on his toes to see over the heads of the people, looking for a place where we could get soup.

Soon I had put on my jacket, shivering. I waited outside the bathroom where the boy was, eating my hotdog. Hmm. I realized I hadn't asked for his name yet. I made sure to ask when he was done.

The place where we got noodles was bright and smelled like beef broth. A calm song played on the speakers as we sat down. "Hey," I said, putting down my chopsticks.

"Yes?"

"What's your name?"

"Connor. What about you?"

"Y/N."

"So, Y/N, what brings you to the airport?"

"A car," I joked.

Connor choked on his soup. "Yeah—" he coughed, "That was—that was good. You got me."

I frowned. "It was a really corny joke."

He shook his head, his face cracking into a wide grin. "Not for me, it isn't." A pair of shocking blue stared into mine. "So, one more time. Why're you at the airport?"

I hesitated for a moment, finished my noodles and pushed the bowl away. "I've been wanting to travel for a while now. I wanna see something new. What about you? Where are you going?"

"I'm visiting my brother at his college. And my family's letting me travel for a while, too. But my first flight got delayed so..." He shrugged.

I nodded. "The airport feels different at this time, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's like...like the air is different. It's thick with the energy of people who are still awake, of the pilots, you know? It's strangely alive, at the time when everyone's supposed to be asleep. I don't really know if I can describe it well, but it has that—that feeling. When you're at a place that's sleeping, and you're the only one awake, it just feels different. Like a time where you can explore a little more and have something special. Like reality was folded or played with. Maybe it's nostalgia, I don't know."

"Maybe it's exhaustion," Connor suggested.

"You finished with your food?" I drawled. He nodded and soon we were back at our seats.

I rested my head on my bag, preparing to sleep. I sat up again, though, after hearing a loud rustling sound. Connor had put his bags in his previous chair and sat down where they had been, putting only 1 seat between us.

"Whatcha doing, Connor?"

"I'm gonna sleep. Duh. Where are you going in your dreams, Y/N?"

"Probably like, my flight in the morning," I mumbled sleepily.

He chuckled. "Yeah."

In the morning, I woke up with Connor shaking me. He said our flights were here. Just as I was about to ask what his last name is or any social media accounts or at least his number, we were swept away from each other by the gathering crowds.