celine and luc

Luc is waiting for Flight No.1632 out of Narita Airport, direct flight to Buenos Aires when a woman with florescent blonde hair wore sharp below her chin sits next to him.

"I noticed you in Paris," her eyes are a penetrating shade of hazel, outlined thick with brown and gold eye shadow, "In Oslo, too." She bites her lips, plump in comparison to her thin face; sultry if Luc had one word to describe them. "I followed you to Tokyo. I know you'll be in Buenos Aires next. And I'm planning on following you there too, but I figured it's a long flight and if I told you now, then I would have someone to talk to on the way." Her eyes search his face for a reaction, "I'm Celine."

Luc blinks. He licks his lips and nods his head just slightly several times, "Ok."

"Ok." She replied, almost giddily.

"I'd introduce myself, but imagine you already know my name…." he clinches his teeth. She blushes and he continues, "and probably the toothpaste I use and obviously my preferred airline and…"

"Actually I know every name you've used in the past three years, but I don't which is the real one."

"Ah…" Luc closes one eye and scratches his bald head, "that's both freaky and endearing."

"I guess…"

"Well, you pick"

"What?"

"It's just a name, sweetheart. Identity is entirely different. If there's anything I know, it's that you can't disguise identity with a name. I seem to be me no matter what epithet I try to escape into. Quirks are kinda like grease, no matter how many times you wash your shirt that annoying blot stays there, ya know?"

'Um… grease?"

"Exactly. So dress me in any name you'd like."

Celine looks downward and nervously rubs the silk fabric of her skirt between her fingers. Her brows make an adorable wrinkle down her forehead and she glances left and right, calculating.

"Child, you are stressing me out, for god's sake, just call m-"

"Luc" she interrupts, looking up quickly and seeming to startle herself with her decision.

Taken back, but pleasantly, he agrees, "So it is then," he takes an invisible hat from his head and nods to her, " Luc. Enchanté, mademoiselle. "

A soothing voice chimes over the waiting area in Japanese. "Pardon me," Luc stands up, collecting his things, "I have something to take care of before the plane departs."

"Ok." She seems uninterested. Luc nods and walks towards the men's room.

The woman over the loud speaker then repeats herself in English, We are now boarding all passengers for Flight No. 1632, non-stop to Buenos Aries, remaining passengers please join the que to the left of the gate."

Celine glances towards the men's room in search of Luc, "Sneaky bastard understands Japanese, too," she curses. She stands up and approaches the men's room. As the flight attendant gently makes last calls to board the flight, Celine taps her high heel impatiently on the purplish carpet, expecting each man that exits to be a foot taller and rushing to his gate.


Outside the terminal, Luc purchases a ticket for the Narita Express back into Tokyo. "Shuppatsu wa nanji desuka?" he inquires while collecting his change.

"In 5 minutes, sir, it's best to hurry," the woman replies with a flirtatious bow, impressed by both his accent and bright blue eyes.

"Ah, brilliant, thank you," he winks and dashes down to the platform.