Ryan's POV I am afraid of flying. It’s not a secret, never was. Although, technically, my fear goes more to the possibility of crashing, of finding my death in one of those great metal things, with no option what so ever to act. I don’t doubt that I’d be just sitting there, frozen in my seat, terrified, silent and already turning away from life while waiting for the end. I’m just as afraid when I’m sharing a plane with Colin, him in the seat next to me, sending me nervous smiles and gleams of understanding in between looking out the thick glass with a look of utter fascination in his eyes. One of those times, in a plane together, he to my left, I watched him and I understood that Colin, he would love to crash. Not crash and die, of course, but if he had no option left but to crash, Colin would spend his last moments staring out that window, fascinated by the sight of the earth nearing, tasting the tension and finding comfort in the inevitable. Colin is built that way, he accepts, finds solemn comfort in what is and what is to come. Maybe that is why I felt the need to prove I knew, the next time we were on stage together. As I placed my hand on his shoulder in the middle of that song, not tentatively, no, as if it righteously belonged there, Colin had already known what I would ask. He turned over, and looked at me with mirrors of excitement, and maybe, compassion too. He knows me. I swallowed, and mumbled something of “Care to dance?” He had already been up and sliding his arms around me by then. As always, I was surprised by his heat, his radiance. But even more, by the total acceptance of his touch, his complete gift towards me. A couple seconds after Drew’s buzzing stopped, he let go, with a lingering arm around my waist accompanying me back to our seats. And for one moment, I wished I would find comfort in the inevitable too. Then I looked to my side, and I saw him smile at me, fascinated. I grin back, fast, and turn away. Maybe I’m like crashing to him too.