Maa-tee-aas <Mathias> smiles and suddenly my stomach makes a big flip.
“Was this your first flight?” he asks.
I nod. “It’s obvious, right?”
My tired eyes are all of a sudden wide awake when they meet Mathias’ dark-brown eyes. He looks absolutely gorgeous, even after the eight hours flight. I notice his olive skin and wonder whether it’s a tan acquired from surfing the famous Sydney beaches. His track pants hang loosely on his hips and the worn-out T-shirt with “You think I’m gorgeous, wait till you meet my dad” written on the front covers what seems a very athletic chest. I giggle and notice how he looks down to check out what amuses me.
When he looks back at me, he asks, “Want to have something decent to eat?”
I consider the question, because the thought of eating makes my stomach go mad at me, but the thought of saying no to Mathias makes my heart scream out loud yes, yes, yes.
“That flight has really taken a toll on you.”