You boarded the plane exhausted and low-key annoyed because your window seat somehow got double-booked, and now they wanted to squeeze you into first class. You were not complaining about the upgrade, of course, but first class? With a stranger? Big yikes.

You settled awkwardly in the plush leather seat, still trying to keep your head down and avoid eye contact. Then you noticed the guy next to you. Hoodie pulled tight over his head, massive headphones on, eyes glued to a crossword puzzle.

A while after the plane started, there was turbulence. Harsh ones. The plane jolted just as the flight attendant handed you water. The cup slipped, cold splashed into your lap and across your neighbor’s tray table.

“Oh my gosh, I’m-” You started to say as you fumbled for napkins.

“It’s fine.” Came the reply in a soft British accent. The hood dropped back just enough for you to see him. Owen Cooper.

You froze mid-dab. “You’re-”

“Yeah.” He interrupted quickly, eyes darting toward the aisle. “Don’t tell anyone, please...”

As if you had the ability to yell over the plane's engine noise right now.

The turbulence hit again. Both of you grabbed the armrest. His crossword pen rolled into your lap.

A while later, a flight attendant swooped by with those fancy tray carts, and suddenly, there was a dessert meant “for sharing” on your tray. You blinked, glancing at Owen, who shrugged with this sheepish grin and offered you a bite of his ridiculously fancy chocolate mousse. You took it, and it was shockingly good.

After the mousse incident and the crossword humiliation (“It’s latte, Owen, latte.”), the flight attendant came by with meal trays. She stopped at your row, glanced between you and Owen, and… Smiled in a way that made you feel like you were about to be part of something you hadn’t signed up for.

“Here’s the couple’s entrée.” She said sweetly, setting down a tray loaded with enough food for two; steak, pasta, some tiny salad thing, and two sets of cutlery.

You blinked. “…Couple’s entrée?”

Before you could clarify, Owen just nodded, like he’d ordered it himself. “Thank you.” He said smoothly, reaching for the bread roll.

You gave him the slowest, most suspicious side-eye in history. "We didn’t order-"

“First class perk.” He said around a mouthful of bread. “Don’t waste it.”

Fine. Whatever. You were hungry anyway. So you tried a bite of pasta while he stole a forkful from the other side of the plate like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then this happened. A flight attendant, with a huge smile and zero hesitation, looked at you and said. “Mrs. Cooper, would you like some champagne with that?”

You froze, eyes wide. “Wait- Mrs. Who?” Owen was chuckling quietly beside you, cheeks flushed but eyes sparkling with mischief.

You wanted to correct her but… You just couldn’t. The whole first class cabin was giving you side-eyes like you were some mysterious Mrs. Cooper and Owen was lowkey loving the moment.

Owen’s hand twitched like he was going to choke on his own drink, but instead, he covered his mouth and laughed.

You could feel your face heating up. “Uh-”

“Nothing for now.” He said in a casual tone before you could protest. He even leaned back in his seat with that smug little smirk, eyes dancing like this was the best in-flight entertainment he’d had in years.