I knew I didn't sleep for too long when I woke up. I didn't even rest properly to be fair.

But I slept long enough to miss the moment when Nick decided to sleep too, and intead of using the tray table like me, used Clay's shoulder as a place to rest his head.

And as if that wasn't enough, he was hugging the poor guy's whole right arm too, cutting off the motion in it completely.

"Help," Clay whined as soon as he saw me looking at them, "his head is so heavy."

I laughed, not worried about being loud as Nick was wearing headphones.

"How long has he been sleeping for?" I asked, longing my arm to grab a water bottle.

"Like an hour," the pain in his voice was undeniable, "my fingertips are numb."

I felt bad that he had to sit awake through the flight just to not wake us up. It would only be fair if I offered help.

"Wanna switch seats?"

"No."

And I didn't expect that quick of a reply.

"How can I help then?" The position he was in seemed extremely uncomfortable.

"My water bottle is in my backpack," he started, "if you could get it for me?"

I looked down to see where his backpack was, but remembered that he put it up in the overhead compartment. And I was sitting beside the window, so getting out of there would be a big struggle, as I had to squeeze myself out and pass Clay's overly long legs that were blocking my way out.

I really didn't want to do that. I preferred stepping out of my comfort zone.

"Ugh," I pouted, "drink from mine?"

His brows went up for a second, before a smile appeared on his face, "Sure."

As I was opening the lid and handing the bottle to him, I realized how different I was around him. I never offered my water bottle to anyone. Not even to my closest friends. The thought of someone drinking from it grossed me out, but somehow I was okay with him doing it.

Maybe it's because we kissed..

"Thank you." His voice snapped me back to reality, as I realized I had to take the bottle back.

"No problem." I was probably blushing. And for what...

"My arm is so numb," he changed the topic, realizing that the air between us was getting hot, "and my right ear is getting abused by the tasteless music blasting through his headphones."

I still couldn't get over how funny yet adorable they looked. The fact that he willingly sat through the pain of having Nick's body weight on him during a 9 hour flight just showed how much of a caring person he actually was. And I knew for a fact that I wouldn't do the same actually.

"Well that's what you get for taking the middle seat." I shrugged.

"I was hoping to get something else," a smirk was daring to creep on his face. And it did when as he continued his sentence, "but you chose to sleep on the tray table."

I'm not getting flustered. That's what he wants.

"It's never too late," I smirked, "if you're willing to sacrifice your left upper limb, I'll gladly take it."

He shifted in his seat after my words, careful enough to not wake Nick. Then he gestured towards his arm, smiling in a way that had a bit of smugness in it.

"It's all yours."

Ignoring the butterflies that were going insane in my stomach, I lifted up the arm rest that separated our seats. I could really use some sleep at the moment, so I decided to put everything aside and go for it.

Clinging to his arm which was both soft from the fabric he was wearing and tough from how tensed he was, I let my head relax and fall down to his shoulder.

He then freed his arm from me for a second to pull the hood of his sweater to his shoulder, so that it would make a nice pillow for my head.

For a second I was insisting if I should hug his arm or not, but he didn't let me make the decision, putting his arm back to where it was - between mine.

"Comfy?" His voice was clearer as our bodies were undeniably closer now.

"Yeah." I was sure he could hear the smile in my voice.

My eyes drifted down to his hand which was just laid on the space between us uncomfortably, as he avoided putting it anywhere on my body without my permission.

My own hands, which were already wrapped around his arm, traveled down to his larger one. Without overthinking it I slid my left hand under his one, and put my right hand on top. Smiling at the thought that I made a little sandwich with our hands, I lifted them up and put them on my thigh.

I kept my hands wrapped around him not only as some type of a barrier, but because I didn't want to let go. There was something about his cold fingertips that demanded to be held, and I just couldn't help it.

When he returned the gesture by intertwining our fingers and giving my hand a reassuring squeeze, I just knew that I never wanted to let go.

"Comfy?" It was my turn to ask, with a voice that was so much smaller than I wanted it to me.

"Never been comfier."

And that's all I wanted to hear before closing my eyes. I'm sure I slept with a smile on my face.