Beginning of Story...

"I think I'm dying." My words escaped my mouth with such ease, like tigers from their cages. The relieving stretch and roar in my mind was really all I needed today.
Darrel's brown eyes were hidden beside me as he wandered in and out of his own dreams, and I couldn't help but wish he had heard my confession. Even if it wasn't enough to grab his attention, at least I could know inside myself if he really cared. I ran my fingers through his hair one last time and kissed his shoulder gently - again, secretly hoping he'd feel it.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, we woke up with the birds and rushed to get my bags together. My vacation in England ends this morning, which only feels like a tease to me. It felt like home here, just as much as it had any other place.
"This bag is really heavy, we may want to leave early to give us time to haul this mother of a bag up the hill." I warn him, trying my best not to swear. Nothing is worse than an unnecessary potty mouth.
"It'll be fine, I'll take it. Trust me." Darrel's voice had the same self-assured cockiness it always had, but this time I feared the additional sound of high-pitched-annoyance. I won't bother trying to talk sense into him.
The suitcase was heavy on my fingers as I grabbed onto the stair railing and breathed every bit of air I could before setting my foot on the step. I leaned the weight of my bag against my right leg to keep it steady, and brought it with me step by step - not daring to let it disconnect from my side."Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot." I whispered to myself, pretending it would help, but knowing that it would never be enough to stop me from falling.
"What the truck are you doing?" He stumbled out of the T.V. room, trying to pull up his pants - and even then all I could think was 'Nothing worse than an unnecessary potty mouth.' "You're going to fall down! Jesus." His footstep fell hard as he jumped past three stairs to take the bag off my hands. Better yet, off my leg. I wasn't sure if I was suppose to worry about his male ego and how bruised it will be when the weight of the bag sends him back wards on the floor; but instead I smiled at the sound of worry that snuck out from between his own lips, and watched him swing the bag away from me and slam it down on the stair. "What the hell did you pack?" He looked up at me in confusion, and still I smiled back. My brown eyes were all to delighted to finally connect with his, and we giggled for just a second.
"It's not what I packed, it's how You helped me pack it. All the heavy items are in there, to save the crisps from being squished in the other bag." -Let me take the time to tell you now, that I have an answer for almost anything. Anything that has nothing to do with my own personal problems anyway. I'm not sure he liked every answer, but my smart ass behavior was rarely left unappreciated in some way. "Don't worry, we can take turns if it gets too heavy."
"I'm just glad they have trolleys at the airport." He smiled again. The word trolley's repeated a few times in my head as I made my way down the rest of the stairs and picked up my jacket. I'm not going to hear that word in Canada... "Get yourself ready!" He said, probably aware of the dive my heart was about to make into my stomach. I looked down at the zip of my jacket, blinked away my weakness, and sat on the bottom stair putting on my 'trainers'.