CanadaXReader- Im Leaving On a Jet Plane

Sort of a SongFic- 'I'm leaving on a jet plane' by John Denver (I think.. It seemed to be by a bunch a people..)

I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane.

As the sun rose over the hills near him, Matthew shoved the last of his things into the trunk of the yellow taxi.  The cabbie slammed the top closed and nodded for Matthew to get into the car.  As Matthew stepped into the car he glanced one last time at his house. He wouldn't miss it much, nor the habitants of it. His brother and parents, who always forgot him, mistook him for his brother, called him bland and un-special.

No. He wouldn't miss them much.

As he slipped in the back seat and shut the door the cabbie pulled away from the curb quickly giving Matthew only a quick view into his living room. They hadn't even come to wish him good luck.

"So where are we going?" asked the cabbie in a rough voice. Looking at Matthew in the rear-view mirror.

"Oh- Well I need to stop at (your address) before I need to be at the airport at 8." The cabbie made a sharp turn towards your address.

"Alright." He answered grunting slightly.

"Thanks…"

--

Matthew stood outside of the cab, with his hands in his pockets looking up at your large white wash house.  The sun wasn't up very high, and it was still extremely early. Matthew doubted you would be awake. But he hoped with all his heart you would still answer the door.

Inside, you weren't sleeping. You were sitting at your dinning table with a cup of long past warm tea in front of you. Matthew was leaving on a four year exchange program to France.

Four years.

And you'd only been dating for two months starting at the very end of school. Then Matthew had received the news.

There was a soft knock at the door. If you hadn't been in the room itself you would never had heard it.

Knowing it was Matthew; you leaped out of your chair and opened the front door quickly.  It was cold outside, the air nipped at your exposed toes and skin. Matthew tried to smile when he saw you open the door in your pajamas. The (favourite singer/band) shirt he had bought you at the concert.

--

For a moment you and Matthew just stood there, drinking in each others presence. Four years is a long time. Then he gave you a long hug, a few stray tears cooled off into Matthew's red sweatshirt.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up." Matthew finally said. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked up at him.

"I.. I wasn't sleeping. I was too worried." You hadn't told anyone about your fears about Matthew leaving. Though it was obvious to everyone who knew you.

"Worried..? How… ?"

"Worried that you'll forget about me. Fall in love with some French girl and never come back."

"I could never forget about you, ______. You're too special to me."

"Vraiment?" you said in your best French.

"Really." Answered Matthew.  

He coughed lightly above your head. "_______.. I have a question to ask you." He let go of you and stood back a little. "I don't have it yet. But I'm going to buy you the nicest ring in Paris I can find. That is.. if you'll marry me when I get back."

"Matthew…" you breathed. "Of course I will." You answered, your eyes filling with fresh tears. But this time from happiness. Now you had something to look forward to. Years were you and Matthew would spend time together, take travels to Europe, Together.
The cabbie, not understanding the situation, honked his horn loudly, tapping his watch at Matthew.

"I have to go now.." said Matthew, looking back at you.

"you'll wait for me, right?" you asked.

"If you'll wait for me."

"I'd wait for you forever… but Matthew.." you paused biting your lower lip. "Please.. kiss me." Matthew had only once kissed you on the lips. He had been at his brother's hockey game against the Russian-exchange team. When Alfred had scored the winning goal- Matthew celebrated.

"Of course, _______." He placed his arms around your waist. You placed yours around his neck and he set his lips upon yours. Kissing you gently, telling you everything was going to be alright.

When you broke the kiss, you gave Matthew another hug.

"I'm so proud of you. You'll do great in France." You realized, though you were happy for him, you were not smiling. You were still too lonely. Even still in his arms.

"________, will you smile for me? You look so beautiful when you smile.. It's one of the things I love about you the most. You're always smiling."  You put on your best smile as Matthew whipped tears from your cheeks with his thumb.
You closed your eyes, waiting for him to leave.
Matthew leaned down and kissed you again on your forehead. A few tears streamed onto your face from his.

"Chaque endroit où je va, je pense à vous.  Chaque chanson que je chante, je chante pour toi. Mais je pars sur un avion. Good bye. I love you."
Then he stepped away, his sneakers tapping lightly on the cement in your walk way.  The cold air nipped again at your body again, it felt weird. Hot tears streaming down your smiling face in the cold air. When you heard the car engine no more, you opened your eyes.

You were alone on your porch.

Then you noticed your feet weren't as cold as they had been. You looked down.  Sitting on your toes was a large stuffed polar bear. You hadn't noticed when Matthew had placed it there. You picked it up and gave it a great hug. Burying you face into its soft and fuzzy head.

It smelt like Maple syrup. It smelt like Matthew.

You turned and stepped softly into your house. Shutting the door behind you slowly. It clicked softly behind you.

~~~EXTRA ENDING~~~

Five years later (Yes, you heard me right. Five years) you still hadn't let go of Matthew. You lugged the polar bear around with you everywhere you went. Work. Play. High school. And when you finished high school, you took it to college in your backpack. Every day.

One day at your lunch period (thing..) you were picking at your salad, petting the bear from inside your bag on the seat next to you when Gilbert, a high school pier of yours that had somehow followed you to college took a hard seat on the other side of you with his mashed potatoes.

Gilbert had been one of Matthew's only friends. Other then yourself. But ever since the first year of Matthew leaving to France he had been trying to get you to go out with him. When you told him you were taken he would answer: "You mean Matthew?" then he'd laugh. "He's never coming back. Better just give in to my awesomeness already." Luckily, he had been met with a fist to the neck by your best friend; who knew how important Matthew was to you. But even after that, Gilbert never stopped short to get you.

"Still petting that little bear?" he asked you in his thick German accent.

You glared at your salad. "Yes.."

"You should really just get over him, _______." He said, stabbing his mash potato mountain with his fork. "I mean come on. Wasn't he suppose to be back like.. two years ago?"

"One year." You growled.

"Whatever. Either way. I am Awesome and waiting for you. He isn't and in a different country. What do you say, huh?"

"Not in a million years, Gilbert. I told you that."
Just then, something caught your attention. Someone burst into the lounge-room breathing hard. You looked up.

Standing with his hand holding the door open, gasping for air as if he'd just been running, wearing a brown suit and red tie was a blonde boy. No, he was a man now. His hair was longer then the last time you'd seen him. Five years ago on your porch wearing your pajamas.

"M… Matthew..?" you breathed. Matthew's shoulders relaxed.

"________..."

  You stood up, running over to him. Knocking your backpack and polar bear onto the ground.  He went for you as well. When he caught you in his arms he spun you around a few times then set you down on your tip toes. You took his face in your hands and smashed your lips into his, like he had that day at the hockey game. He moved his hands so they were on top of yours. When the lack of air finally separated you, he was still breathing hard. He rested his forehead on yours.

"I'm sorry I'm so late." He held you close to him. He had gotten stronger.

"It's okay. As long as you're here now. How did you find me at school?"

"I asked."

"Who?"

"Everyone." He pulled out a crumbled, worn photo of yourself you had sent him a few years before. You had just gotten a new hair cut.

Gilbert appeared next to you both.

"Matthew." He said. He sounded kind of ticked off.

"Gilbert!" Matthew let you go and gave his old friend a hug. "Oh!" he let go of Gilbert,
who walked off to go complain to his potatoes, and turned back to you. He rummaged in his pockets again. "I think I owe you something." He slipped a small black box out of his coat. He lowered himself to the floor on one knee. "________, I love you so much. I've always loved you. I never stopped thinking of you in France." Matthew was stammering. "Well.."

You flung yourself at him on the floor.

"Of course I will! I already told you that! …I'm so glad your back." Tears ran down your cheeks.

Matthew tightened his hug around you a few tears running down his own face.

"I'm back.."

~FIN