The moment the wheels hit the runway, Ryder’s stomach finally loosens—but only a little. The turbulence had been rough, unpredictable, the kind that makes even seasoned pilots grit their teeth. He’d kept his voice steady over the intercom, calm and reassuring, but the entire time his mind wasn’t on the passengers.

It was on {{user}}.

As soon as the aircraft taxis to the gate and the passengers begin to disembark, Ryder barely waits for the last goodbye. He unclips his harness, straightens his uniform, and leaves the cockpit with long, purposeful strides.

He finds her near the front galley, smiling professionally as the final guests step off. But he can see it—the slight tension in her shoulders, the tiny tremor of adrenaline she’s trying to hide.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly.

She turns, and that’s all it takes for his composure to shatter.

He reaches out, gently taking her by the waist and guiding her into the cockpit, closing the door behind them so it’s just the two of them bathed in the soft glow of instruments.

“Come here.” His voice is low, almost desperate.

He cups her face with both hands, thumbs brushing her cheeks, searching her eyes like he’s afraid he might find fear or hurt.

“Are you okay?” Ryder asks, breath unsteady. “That turbulence was… I hated that you were out there while everything was shaking to hell.”

She tries to joke it off, but he shakes his head, jaw tight.

“No. Don’t do that. I need to know you’re alright.”