3 years ago

Henry

Amidst the bustling crowd of eager faces at the airport's international terminal, a tall man stood out, his eyes scanning the sea of travellers. Henry Carlisle – clad in a cosy jumper, well-fitted trousers, and comfortable trainers – held a handwritten sign that simply read "Izzy".

The anticipation coursing through his veins was palpable, drowning out curious glances and surreptitious phone cameras pointed in his direction.

At six feet, Henry usually commanded attention from his height alone, but today, he was lost in his own world, floating on a cloud of pure elation.

Thirteen years had passed since he'd last seen her in person, three of which had been filled with constant direct messaging on Instagram, nurturing a connection that had never truly faded. Now, at thirty-one, the Englishman was about to be reunited with the one person he'd longed for all these years.

His blue eyes darted from face to face, searching for the one he'd loved since he was young. And there – there she was. His childhood crush, Izzy Hazelhurst, looking even more spectacular than she had in the pictures that had sustained him. Henry's face lit up, his cheeks aching from the width of his grin as he took in the sight of her, finally close enough to touch.

"Henry!" the biracial Australian woman squealed, forcing her suitcase to halt by her side.

Henry listened to her laughter as he wrapped her up tight in his arms, lifting her inches off the ground. He melted as her arms wrap around him in return.

Henry could still smell a hint of strawberry in the air as he placed her back on the ground. "Izzy."

"Henry." She giggled. "Oh. Wow."

It felt like it was just the two of them in the airport – their own private bubble.

"Sorry." Henry breathed out his nerves. "Let me take this." He reached for her suitcase. "Still can't believe you made it."

"Neither can I." Izzy strolled alongside him, taking no notice of the stares or the photos being taken of them. "My grandparents didn't need to tell me twice." She let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

Henry laughed nervously and led her out of the airport, through the car park, then reached into his pocket for his car keys. He opened the passenger door of a Rapide S 2013 Aston Martin.

Izzy was shocked. "This is your car?"

Henry nodded. "Is that a problem?"

Her dark eyes studied the leather interior. "No. It's... Wow."

She sat down in the passenger seat, and Henry closed the door. Her head moved as if it was on the swivel, and he noticed her fingers tightening on the seat belt as she pulled it across herself. She was intimidated. He'd hoped she would find it as inviting as he did.

None of it mattered. She was in his car, just waiting to be whisked away. By him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he deposited her suitcase then exhaled his infatuation. As he closed the boot of the car, his mind held on to the image of Izzy sitting in the front seat.

After sliding into the driver's seat and following the flow of airport traffic, Henry glanced over at the woman next to him.

A gentle smile slipped across her lips. "This reminds me of when you got your licence in Australia."

"Only difference is we're not heading to school," Henry stated, and Izzy laughed. "Still can't believe this."

"Who knew?"

The drive was full of laughter, smiles, and memories as the two thirty-one-year-olds reconnected.