The Stranger In Seat 8b Novels & Stories

He closed his fist and showed me the punch. My lips curled into a smile seeing his concern. I tilted my head a bit and rested on his shoulder. He caressed my cheeks lovingly. I wrapped my palm on his arm and together we entered the dining room. It was almost full. I scanned the room and my eyes landed on the available seat. I moved towards it. On reaching I realised my mistake. For a second my steps halted. The seat was next to Liam and only one seat that was left. Uncle gestured for me to sit but I stood still.

He moved closer, though I wasn't afraid. 'What does he want now?' I muttered inwardly, knowing fully well that my job was not to help a stranger. If Clara ever finds out, then I would be doomed. He stood in front of me, his blue eyes fixed on mine. He leaned slowly and I knew he wanted to kiss me, but I didn't move.

She didn’t ask for details. She was folding his jacket when the photo fell out. At first, she didn’t even recognize what it was. The print was old and slightly creased, the edges curled. She picked it up, flipped it over. And froze. It was Elias. Younger, maybe by a few years. Clean-shaven, sitting on the hood of a car, his arm slung around a woman with long braids and a half-smile that said she knew secrets. Maya stared at it for a long time.

He looks ridiculous and terrifying and heartbreakingly real. “I—” My voice breaks. I can’t lie to him; I won’t. “I don’t know.” “Sit back,” the stranger says, then lean over, startling to turn my face. We are so close, that I can taste his breath. “GET AWAY FROM HER!!” Jace screams and my heart jumps when I hear his erratic foot steps. He was running now. “I'm just reaching for the seat belt,” the stranger says and I hear the click of the belt locking in place.

"What could he possibly say?" "That's good, then," said Serena with a sigh of relief. "I asked the intern to reserve the seat, but he couldn't even handle this small task properly. I repeatedly reminded him to reserve seat number 008, but he somehow ended up with seat 007 and sold that ticket! Luckily, Sherman didn't complain about it, or I wouldn't know how to make it up to you..." "What did you say? The ticket that was sold was for seat number 008?" …

Sophie's pov **The Interception** The Greyhound bus shuddered as it lumbered onto the I-90, its diesel engine groaning under the weight of fifty-seven passengers and their collective exhaustion. Lila Blackstone sat curled against the window in seat 32C, her knees drawn to her chest, her fingers nervously picking at the frayed edges of her hoodie sleeves. The glass was cool against her forehead as she watched the city lights blur into streaks of gold against the gathering twilight.

His friends are still laughing behind him, catcalling like this is some sort of entertainment. A sharp honk cuts through the air. I glance back. A sleek black Bugatti idles at the curb, engine low and smooth. The driver steps out. My stomach drops when I see the stranger in the back seat. His window is down just enough. His eyes lock on mine, calm but intense. “Get in, Veronica.” I freeze, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “I won’t repeat myself,” he says, voice low and firm. “Get in.”

The plates are all broken, the table overturned and pieces of broken glasses are splattered all around the room. I took a step backward, reality sinking in but decided to ignore it and just walk out of the door, my stomach growling in hunger. I'm not a fan of breakfast anyway. I told myself. I took my time as I walked going to school. My supposed to be happy mood turned sour once I took sight of the reason why I had the opportunity of meeting the stranger. "Good morning, stranger." A voice greeted me, I looked up at the person and there he was, smiling under the morning sun. "How's your sleep?"

It really is too easy. Is it my imagination, or did something hit the back of my chair? Like a foot, maybe? Zeke didn’t exactly kick it, but he definitely jostled it. I ignore him, instead smiling wide at the stranger to my right. A stranger who is extremely flustered now. “Um, maybe. I’m not sure…”

I was shocked by that, a twist of fate. For both parties, as I thought deeply about what the stranger meant I saw a man in a cap walk past us to sit at the back. He tipped his cap to cover his face as he passed us. I turned but he had already sat down, and I didnt see what aisle he sat in. I started to panic again, the flight to South Africa was a calm one, we all came down and I started to look for who was in the hat but I never saw. Still, I couldn't shake off being watched, is it Nico?