and then she fell asleep in his arms.
Just a few minutes after takeoff, Leigh was already knocked out cold. She had complained about the cramped up space. And Jean, like the gentleman he was, offered to lift up the armrest in between them.
There was nothing between them anymore and Jean was on edge about the whole thing. Just a week ago, they were millions of miles apart. And now, just inches. Well, until the plane tilted and Leigh's head rolled to the side, onto Jean's shoulder. He immediately tensed up and, almost as quickly, relaxed and reveled at the feeling of her relying on him for support.
Jean took a chance and actually looked at the sleeping girl beside him. Her hair was sticking up everywhere and some were even in her opened mouth. Griff was still in her arms but no longer chocked. She was softly snoring a lullaby that surely was going to be Jean's favorite song.
Jean felt the warmth on his left side and couldn't help but whisper a profanity.
"Goddamnit, Leigh, why must you do this to me?"
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