Miranda's car eased up to the arrivals terminal at Valencia airport.
The aforementioned name slid open the car door, stepping out briskly without waiting for Izan, who unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his bag from the back seat, moving toward the automatic doors.
Miranda's voice cut through the light hum of the morning crowd.
"You ready for this?"
Izan shrugged, adjusting the strap on his bag.
"Why are you making this feel like I'm going to play a World Cup?"
She raised an eyebrow, a half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Don't make me regret sending you off."
He glanced over his shoulder, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
"Try not to."
Without another word, Miranda gave a small nod and a quick wave.
"See you when you get back."
Izan nodded once, then stepped through the sliding glass doors into the milling crowd.
Inside, the airport pulsed with movement. People bustled past with rolling luggage, some hurrying, some lingering by the cafes.
