"You're doing this on purpose." Bahorel grimaces, and shoves Courfeyrac in his other shoulder. "Torture me all you want, but you're going to be the one who has to put up with me when I'm going out of my skull on this damn plane."

He picks up his bag, and slings it easily over one shoulder. Heading off to the check-in desk, he mutters, "The fucking gods and monsters and shit are going to be such a relief after this is done."