Want to support CHYOA?
Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)

Chapter 12 by gramana gramana

What's next?

Run down the aisle

The second dragged. It was like her mind had to notice every stray thing before the moment was willing to pass - even if no one turned around, on the other side of her were rows and rows of people with a clear view of her naked body, if the flesh-coloured blur in their peripheral vision drew their attention.

And where she was standing, there was no cover. A locked door on one side, a featureless slab of metal on her other, and a wide open pathway surrounded by people either direction.

She looked back over her shoulder, back the way she came - the air hostess was still wheeling her cart down the aisle, blocking any chance of progressing much further than her own seat. Returning there without even the blanket was... Layla swallowed, and turned back the other way.

Only three or four seconds could have passed, but it felt like hours, her bare feet frozen in place, mind racing. She didn't want to stay here, so only one option presented itself - still, she hesitated for a moment that dragged, looking down the aisle ahead of her. Hopefully the bathroom at the far side wasn't occupied.

If she could get there. She could see every pair of eyes, every stranger, looking straight in her direction.

And no other route.

She didn't know how long she'd lingered outside the locked bathroom. Objectively, she knew it couldn't have been long, but it still felt like too long. She made herself start running, forgetting any pretense of a natural pace and just sprinting down the narrow aisle, arms clutched over the front of her body as though it offered her any modesty.

She just felt naked, and knew that she'd look naked. No amount of waving her arms around or squeezing them against herself would change that. A hand clenched into a tight fist over her core, shaking with tension, a fore-arm tightly held over her breasts, panicky footsteps that echoed down the aisle that seemed like it was endless.

She definitely heard gasps, voices, and saw people turn, but she kept her gaze fixed on the far end of the aisle. Just focus on the privacy, don't think about anything else, just worry about what she'd do when she was somewhere more secluded and...

There was something about running nude that felt inherently inappropriate. She felt every sway of her hips like something far more pronounced than it was meant to be, felt the sterile air as it clung to exposed parts of her body, points on her inner thigh and side of her chest so unused to being open to the air when she moved like this.

For a moment she felt like she was running on a conveyor belt, the floor moving back under her feet so she just ran past endlessly repeating rows of strangers and gawking faces, an admittedly appreciative audience getting constant glimpses of her nude body.

And then she reached the far side with a gasp of relief. panicking, and lunged at the bathroom door.

Vacant. She almost shouted in relief, and pushed her way inside, whirling around and slamming the lock shut, before slumping against the wall, gasping for air and waiting for her heartbeat to slow and her cheeks to cool.

The room was small and cramped, not any room to lift her arms up - there was the toilet, a narrow sink jutting out from the wall, and little else. A mirror above the sink reflected her nudity back at her, as if she needed any reminder of her current situation. It did, however, stop her flush from diminishing.

She checked the lock again, and took a deep breath.

"Taweret?" Layla said, a little more desperately. "Seriously, bad time for total silence. This feels like magic stuff."

Inhale. Exhale. Layla crossed her arms, if just to avoid needing to stare at her breasts in the mirror. Her reflection was all she could really look at, the cramped room making any other angle of standing uncomfortable, unless she wanted a sink poking into her side or back. Curly hair, wide eyes, an expression carefully trying to be restrained rather than frantic, down to the pale brown of her shoulders and beyond.

Was she meant to just wait in here until the plane landed? She doubted she'd be allowed, and even if she was, what then? Nudity shouldn't have felt like this... insurmountable a problem.

"Taweret!" Layla said, lifting her voice a little, urgent. "Find some way to talk to me, I'm begging you!"

What's next?

More fun
Want to support CHYOA?
Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)