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"Cmon, baby," Ben says in a husky tone as his brawn arms encircle her tiny waist. He nuzzles his face into her silky brown hair. A luscious fragrant, perhaps violets, invades his senses. "I love you," he mumbles into her hair, strands tickle his lips.
"Mmmhmm," she moans. She scoots away from him and cups his face in her hands. His five o' clock shadow prickles her fleshy palms. Her copper pupils pierce through his clouded eyes. Searching him, probing his soul, she asks, "Do you really have to leave Seneca?"
"Ugh," he grunts slightly irritated. He moves her hands from his face, holding them tightly within his. "Chelsea, we've gone over this so many times! I can't stay here any longer." He shakes his head, staring at her with pleading eyes. "If I continue to live here in Seneca.... I'll be trapped forever."
She jerks her hands away from his. Emotion rising in her throat, contributing to the chaos in her heart. In a shrill voice she shouts, "And what about me, Ben?! I'm just dead weight? Am I stuck here?!"
He grabs her hands again. "You can come with me!"
"No," she coos, feeling defeated. "You said being with me is like paradise. Why would you want to leave?" She begs, tears begin to form, blurring her vision of his handsome face.
Ben sighs, dropping his gaze to her hands. He spies her ringless finger. He swallows a lump that formed in his throat. Still looking down, he murmurs, "You're not enough to keep me here."

"I'm going to make it!" Zelanie whispers through clenched teeth. She jutts an arm out, catching the glass door and ushering herself in. Satchel cluched in a firm grip she sprints toward the service desk.
"Oceanic 417 to Miami, Florida, please," she gasps.
The attendant is wearing an olive suit. Her outfit is reminiscent of a soldier. Or maybe she likes to dress in drab colors. She smiles, "For business or pleasure?"
"Business... although I hope it turns out pleasurable."
The woman nods. Her name tag reads Chelsea.
"Here. Let's pray for the best," Chelsea replies, handing Zelanie her boarding pass.
"Thanks."
Zelanie turns to go but pauses.
"Don't chase after him."
She spins around. "Excuse me?"
"Don't chase after him," Chelsea repeats, "he won't be worth it." Her copper eyes dim as an overcast of sadness consumes her pupils.
Zelanie looks at her, indignation etched into her delicate features. "You can't say that to me without knowing my story. You have no right."
"I have good intentions and advice. That should be more than enough."
Zelanie shakes her head and with it breaks free from her curiosity. She has a plane to catch, a life to get away from, and a man to confront.
"C'mon girl. Don't forget what he means to you."