I love arriving to enormous airports like this one. It's like a city enclosed in a building. I had plenty of time to observe its community of fellow travelers, while I waited for my next flight. I went in search of my gate number before I could wander aimlessly for the next eight hours.

It was one thirty in the afternoon, but for some reason, time stood still in this place. It reminds me of an earthly black hole. There was my gate, number 57. It was pointless to sit there now, so I followed the aroma that came out from the cute little cafe right nearby. I wasn't very hungry, but am always in the mood for a nice cup of coffee.

I liked the cozy setup they had inside; there was a nice red leather couch, a couple of black armchairs and some vintage coffee tables. Although these chairs seemed more comfortable than the ones in the waiting area, I wanted to go back. I was looking around, waiting for my drink, counting only a few people inside. There was a couple chattering by the wall, and on the red couch was a man typing on his laptop.

At first I thought it was an older man, but when I glanced again, he wasn't old at all. He looked like he was in college, sporting a sexy fohawk and black framed glasses. He reminded me of those cute nerdy guys you see in chick flicks, that never know they're actually hot.

My mind kind of drifted as I wondered what he might look like without his glasses, I was staring right at his laptop but my eyes weren't really in focus. I then looked up at him but I couldn't see his eyes because of the glares on his lenses. He then startled me when I saw him smile back.

I don't know why I was so embarrassed; either way I took my cup and left quickly. Maybe that was an unkind gesture, but I can't help it, I panicked. I searched for a comfortable spot by a large glass window, where I could enjoy my hot drink and book. At any moment I would begin to read, if it were not for the distractions outside my window. I was mesmerized with the planes cruising around, and the carts stacked with colorful luggage.

I wasn't aware that, several minutes later, the cutie from the cafe was now sitting right across from me. Was this some cruel joke? Was I to own up to my embarrassment? I'm 23 years old, not some high school girl who's going to swoon over his boyish charm. At least I hoped to not.

Perhaps I was being stubborn, but I refused to acknowledge his presence. Mostly because I knew he was suspecting that I was "checking him out". I felt him peeking from behind his laptop; I would be lying if I said I wasn't fascinated with the idea of talking with some random guy at an airport. See why I love this place!

I put my book back in my purse, since I wasn't using it, and pretended to glance around. I watched him bob his head while tapping his knees, as he was apparently listening to music through his earphones. And then he caught me again, this time I returned a bashful smile as I looked down. He pulled out his earphones, setting aside his laptop, as if he were about to speak.

"So you're heading to California too?" He asked.

Before I could focus on the question, I was taken aback by his unusual accent.

"I am. And after this 14 hour flight, I have another short one to San Diego."

"Ah. I'm staying in L.A. This wait is a killer though, huh?"

I shook my head, as it definitely was, but it was also getting better. I still couldn't get over how cool his voice sounded; I wanted him to talk more.

"My name is Gavin, by the way."

"Dianna," I replied.

"Would you ... like to walk around?" he asked politely.

"Let's do it!" I answered.

Hey, he didn't have to twist my arm. Walk around with some hot foreign guy for seven hours? I think yes!

"I believe I saw some lockers a down a terminal close by," I suggested.

After leaving our heavier items in a shared locker, we went ahead and journeyed throughout the airport's busy halls. My new friend was proving himself to not only be pretty smart but funny too. That helped break the ice, so that there was friendlier chit chat. He had me laughing the whole time, constantly blurting out these one-liners; he was so easy to be around.

We strolled in and out of gift shops, perfume and makeup boutiques, books and small clothes stores. He thought it was hilarious to try on the weirdest and tackiest sunglasses and caps. We made fun of the silly souvenirs, however we eventually got hungry.

Approaching the food court, there was lots to choose from. Kindly, he let me pick, so I decided to go to the sushi bar. We sat at their black marbled counter and began to freshen up on our chopstick picking skills. I didn't notice that by choosing the bar over a table, we ended up sitting rather close.

Able now to get a closer look at Gavin, I saw a small trail of beauty marks that traveled from his temple down to the side of his face. You could barely see them, especially since he wore those glasses. I thought they were adorable, adding to his already dreamy persona.

He took his sticks and began to do a neat drum roll on the counter. I looked at him curiously, for he was really good.

"Are you a drummer or something?" I smirked.

"Was it that obvious?" he paused and placed his chopsticks down.

Are you kidding me? Could this guy be any more amazing? I felt like I needed to impress him with some hobby I did or something. But I had nothing appealing to say.

"You are so rad. You went from like a 6 to a 10!" I complimented.

"Interesting, I thought you were a 10 from the start."

I imagined my jaw drop after he gave me that answer. Who says that and gets away with it so smoothly? I hate how you can never really tell if you're blushing or not, unless another person tells you. Well I sure did want to know now. I didn't know what to do but smile. He on the other hand, had a victorious grin on his face.

As we ate, questions started to pop in my head; I wondered what his last girlfriend was like. What was his type? Would he even want to keep in touch once we got to California? Was this just an airport fling, minus the touching? I could feel an ounce of jealousy as I thought of the people and girls that had the privilege of knowing and hanging out with him.

Soon, Gavin was asking about my home, family and hobbies. We also spoke about college life and his goals as a drummer. His purpose for traveling to L.A. was to work on some collaboration with some friends of his. He shared his story briefly and before you knew it we were sitting on those stools for hours.

"So, I'm guessing there is no boyfriend waiting for you back in San Diego?" he asked.

Smiling I said, "Of course not. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I was walking around the airport with a handsome stranger?"

After I said that I wanted to put my fist in my mouth for spilling out the word "handsome".

"So you think I'm handsome?" he said amused. "I just want to make sure that I heard right."

I bit my tongue, refraining from giving him the satisfaction of ever truly knowing. I almost wanted to hit his arm or something, for the way he carried that playfully arrogant smirk on his face.

"Really, I'm flattered. My girlfriend seems to think so to."

Just then I gave him a stern stare, I couldn't believe it.

"You're what?"

Trying to contain his laughter, he lifted his head back .

"I'm sorry, I'm kidding. I swear! I'm sure that if I did, she would neither appreciate the fact of me hanging out with a pretty girl too."

This time I went through with my desire to hit his arm. There was no denying that I was growing more attracted to him; and I believed he felt the same.

Gavin then got this crazy idea of riding the terminal trains for a while before we had to head back for our flight. We hopped on and sat by the window. Now that it was only us and a few people at the other end, I guess he felt comfortable enough to ask me more interesting questions.

"So what kinds of guys do you like Dianna?"

I was beginning to think he really enjoyed putting me on the spot, like he so often did.

"Geez, you get straight to the point huh?"

Laughing he answered, "That and I like to see you blush."

This time my jaw did drop, as I turned around to lightly punch him on the arm again. I was too nervous to answer the question. The butterflies in my stomach didn't feel so pleasant anymore. I wanted to say "like him", but having only met hours ago, I was too shy to admit that.

I cleverly said, "I don't really have a type."

"Well, do you like sporty guys, artistic, smart or … musicians? Specifically like drummers, for instance," he chuckled.

I didn't think twice to hit his arm again, as my grin gave away my answer.

"I'll take that as a yes. The drummer wins!" he teased.

Oh my goodness, he was obviously flirting with me. And I loved every minute of it, even if I had his arm full of bruises.

"Wait, I didn't say that!" I tried to defend myself.

"You didn't have to; your defensive impulse to keep punching me confirmed it."

I was about to hit him, when he raised his eye brows to prove his point; but I hit him anyways.

For the rest of the ride back, I had smiled and laughed so much my cheeks were beginning to hurt. After we got our things from the locker, we continued to stand in the line, for they were boarding the last passengers.

It was nine at night, and to my surprise, there weren't many people on board. There were plenty of empty seats. Gavin pointed to the middle row where he would be sitting, but mine was further back. He was giving me a pouty sad face, as I passed him to go to my window seat.

Few people were still jamming their bags in the small overhead compartments. I had already settled in when I saw my friend approaching my aisle.

"So it looks like no one is going to be bugging you on this long flight?" pointing at the empty seats beside me.

"I know. I'll actually get to sleep. Maybe even the whole way, if I'm lucky. Is your row empty too?"

"Yeah, so far."

We heard the voice of the flight attendant on the speaker. She was announcing that everyone needed to be seated and that we were about to take off shortly. Gavin was about to walk away when he paused for a second. He quickly turned around and leaned by my chair.

"Oh, and if you would have asked me what type of girl I liked … I would have said someone like you."

I captured the emotion that fled from his eyes as he got serious when saying those words. I believed him. I was left wondering what I should do now, as I felt the ball was in my court. How could I fall asleep after he sad that? I can't just sit here and do nothing. I unbuckled my seat belt, grabbed my bag and flew to his seat, literally.

I slid into my chair beside him, he displayed another victorious grin.

"If you wanted to sit next to me, then why didn't you move over there?" I asked.

"I didn't want to impose. I wasn't sure if you really wanted to be alone or not."

"Oh so leaving me with words in my mouth was a better idea?" I shot back.

Not ready for him to turn and face me so closely yet, I feared I would go into panic mode again.

"What words did I leave you with then?"

The airplane began to move, the lights dimmed low, leaving the space around us very dark.

There were two little lights above us that allowed us to at least see each other's face. The plane started to ascend in to the air. Although my butterflies had returned, my body felt warm all over from the look he was reciprocating.

I watched him take off his glasses and place them in his bag on the other seat. I assumed he was going to fall asleep, until he grabbed my hand. There was no arm rest between us, which permitted him to move closer. He softly rested his forehead upon mine; I could feel him breathing slowly and deeply upon my cheek. I closed my eyes, eager to see where this would go.

I placed my hand on the side of his head to lightly run my fingers through his smooth brown hair. While I did that a few more times, he caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. I knew it wouldn't be long before we would have our first kiss.

Soon we were sitting cheek to cheek; he continued to incline his lips towards mine. The anticipation of his actions kept me from diving in to kiss him already. His lips finally tugged on mine; I felt lightning surge through me. I grew warm as I cuddle with him. My hands nested in his upon my lap. He persisted in tasting my lips as if to make out their flavor.

I cupped his cheek in my hand, to feel his face again. Then from probing kisses they became more elongated and sensual. His lips were soft and full, every other moment or so he'd wet them and continued to kiss me. My skin was tingling, my body quivering.

We pulled away and readjusted ourselves in our seats. It was like I suddenly felt a slight draft, from not sitting as close to him anymore. My mouth missed him, as the sensation of the way he felt on me lingered. There was a pleasant silence between us. I didn't know about him, but I felt so aroused, I hoped that we would kiss again soon.

He reached over to grab my hand again, examining and admiring it. He then unbuckled his seat belt to turn completely toward me without any hindrance; kindly grabbed my face to plunge into another kiss. This one was a little different; more passionate and seductive, as though he didn't want to let me go... ever.

Clearly we acted as if we were the only ones on the plane. The quiet sounds of our affair echoed through the rows of sleeping passengers. My heart raced uncontrollably; I also felt my body pulsate as he had his hands on my back. Holding me close, he'd pause with his head nestled on my neck.

If the circumstances were different, I would not be making out with a guy I had met the same day. I never dreamt this to actually happen. After this romantic moment, we stayed holding hands and cozy next to each other. I laid my head on his shoulder, while he rested his head on top of mine. Before we knew it we had fallen asleep. All I could hope for was to never land.