My hand continued to press against the flight attendant's chest when her lips parted to give me an answer.
I brought my face closer, attentive to what she was about to tell me when I felt her hand on my wrist.
With a strength and speed that didn't match what I had deduced from her, she applied a move that left me on my back, lying on the floor.
"I didn't want to... I'm sorry... please forgive me," she said.
Before I could realize what had happened, and why on earth I was lying on my back on the floor looking at the ceiling above my head, I heard her running.
I immediately got up, but it was already too late.
Despite not causing me any harm, the force with which she had freed herself from my grip turned out to be disconcerting.
Never, not even in my years of training with the army
