Aera's P.O.V

"Over here!" My grandfather motioned to us, waving a sign with our family name "Mok" written on it in big scrawling letters.

We hurried over to him, my dad shaking his head.

"Father, you didn't need to make a sign, we know what you look like," he explained to Grandpa.

"Oh, really? Well, it's my first time picking people up from the airport," he replied with a frown.

I grinned, listening to their conversation.

"It's so good too see both of you! You have no idea how grateful I am to you two," Grandfather said, pulling me into a large hug.

"Well, we couldn't just let you alone after..." Dad trailed off, and the three of us were silent for a second.

"How far is it to your house again? I haven't visited in ages," I eventually said, attempting to avoid the grim mood.

"Let's see...It's about a half an hour drive from here. We should get your luggage and get a good meal into you," My grandfather replied happily, though his eyes were sad.

Grandpa insisted that I sit and rest while the two of them go find our belongings, to which I happily agreed. While they walked off, I glanced around the large, noisy airport, looking for a bench. My eyes landed on a secluded spot in a corner near the exit. I stumbled towards it with a yawn. We hadn't been on the plane long, and it wasn't the middle of the night either. But we'd woken up way earlier than I was used to. So I plopped on the bench and closed my tired eyes, hoping to perhaps grab a second of sleep while they were gone. I knew it would take them a while to find the bags, since both were extremely uncoordinated. Especially together.

I listened to the sounds of the bustling airport; crying kids, feet slapping against the ground, voices fuzzy through a loud speaker, the rolling and bustling of suitcases and carry-ons. They eventfully blended together, luring me into sleep. I felt my body slump over slightly. Maybe I'll actually fall asleep. I thought with pleasure.

My nose itches. I suddenly realized with annoyance. I frowned and forced a hand to my face, rubbing my nose. My ear began to itch afterwards, and soon enough the noises became individuals again, loud and annoying. And I was forced to open my eyes. I straightened up and crossed my arms with a scowl. So much for some shuteye. I began to think.

Suddenly, an uncomfortable, crawling feeling ran down my spine. I shifted my position and scanned the airport again, waiting in sudden paranoia for my dad and grandad to return. For it was a familiar feeling. The shiver I'd gotten. It happened when someone was watching me, and it always freaked me out. For some reason, as much as I loved reading other people, I hated it when someone watched me. That was probably why I had felt completely frozen under that boy's intense stare. It was a crowded place, so I knew a bunch of people had at least glanced my way. Was that why I'd gotten a shiver? Just because someone had looked at me casually? Of course, I knew that was ridiculous. Maybe it was just in my head. That seemed like the best explanation. But I still felt paranoid, and I was extremely tempted to call my dad, despite knowing how ridiculous that would be.

Once again, I looked around the large, loud room. This time, I found the cause of my discomfort. A teenage boy, casually leaning against a large sign that said something in English, was clearly staring at me. And it wasn't just any boy. It was him. I involuntary let out a quiet sort of strangled gasp. What the heck?! Why is he here?! Just like before, I froze and locked eyes with him. We stayed like that for what seemed like hours. My mind raced with possibilities for his appearance. Is he a stalker? Is he actually following me? Why on earth would he follow me across the country? This can't possibly be a coincidence. My head started to ache.

"Aera!"

I jumped and cursed. I hadn't noticed how quiet it had gotten, but at that moment all the noise slammed back onto me. I turned to my father and grandfather who were walking up to me.

"H-hey guys. What took you so long?" I asked shakily.

"It was a bit of a process finding luggage with your father," Grandpa told me.

"Oh, no! It was completely the other way around! Your grandfather wanted to go through every single suitcase that looked like ours!" My dad insisted.

As they began to argue, I turned back to the sign the boy stood at, only to find he had disappeared. With a gulp and sigh of relief, I stood up.

"Are we going to stop for lunch?" I asked.

"We most certainly are." Grandpa turned to me. "Let's go see if I can remember where I parked."